A Beautiful Lie
by Stahlfan125
Summary: Sequel to You Can Call Me Jack and Clever Girl. Chapter 20: The End. Bennie comes home, and Jackson must tell him about Felicia. Lisa encourages Brian to tell Jackson the truth, and Harrison's girlfriend reveals a secret. COMPLETE!
1. The Story

Okay, so this is the sequel to "You Can Call Me Jack" and "Clever Girl", as promised. I'm not sure how much I'm going to be updating this, really, because I have another story that's my top priority, but I'll try to work on this one too. It should be relatively long.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the other stories! And please review again:)

Quick note...the title of the story comes from a 30 Seconds to Mars CD and song...check them out, they rule :) Also, every chapter title will be from a title of a song or a line of a song by 30 Seconds to Mars, probably all of them from the Beautiful Lie CD. Just thought I'd point that out.

disclaimer: I don't own anything. No friggon duh.

* * *

**Chapter 1: **The Story

Lisa sat down on her couch and finally rested her back against the soft cushions, exhaling happily and kicking off her shoes. She thought about turning on the television, but then decided that it would take far more energy than she had left in her entire body to do so.

It had been a long, _long_ day.

First there had been a water-pipe explosion that resulted in the evacuation of five rooms on the eighth floor, and three on the seventh. Then there was the extremely argumentative couple who had decided that the lobby was the best place for their latest screaming match. Not the least of the problems was the annoying sixteen-year-old boy who was sick of his family vacation and decided that pulling the fire alarm would be fun. Lisa groaned at the thought. That was just a horrible mess, especially when the father had started physically attacking the poor, though still annoying, child out in the street. Lisa and Cynthia had put a stop to that nicely with a few well-placed, albeit unprofessional, kicks. Lisa almost smiled at the thought.

Almost.

She rolled her head to the side and saw that it was six thirty in the morning. What in God's name had possessed her to take the night shift seven days in a row? She needed to start taking some late mornings. She glanced at the clock again. Six thirty one. She could always take a day off…

The workaholic in her cringed at the idea, but her brain was telling it to shut up and sleep. Cynthia would cover for her with Vicki or Lindsey, or whoever was working that day. Her brain was too fried to figure it out, or even make a half-hearted attempt. She would call in in a few hours and tell them that she wasn't going to work at ten. That was that. She, Lisa Reisart, was actually going to take a day off. She made a mental note to mark it down on her calendar later.

* * *

About twenty minutes later, she finally mustered enough strength to extend her arm forward a few feet and grasp the remote control with a victorious smile. She put her feet up on the table, something she almost never did, and turned the television on. She was going to _relax_.

She started flipping through the channels idly, pausing for only a moment before switching to the next.

"An attempted mugging earlier in the day…"

"No, please, please don't leave me!…"

"I'm giving you until I count to three…"

"…Earlier reports were sketchy, but…"

"…As coastal flooding…"

"…Killed earlier today…"

"…Around five foot nine with dark hair and blue…"

"…What? Anna, I thought you said…"

Lisa's eyes widened, and she hurriedly flicked the remote, changing back to the station before. A man in an expensive suit was standing with a tall bald man who was wearing an apron. The man with the apron looked extremely shaken.

"Pete was a good man," he said slowly, shaking his head. "Maybe not in society's standards, ya know…but to me, he was a real friend. This is just…a shock."

The scene changed, and the same man was interviewing a woman with brown hair who looked like she had been crying.

"I don't know who coulda done this," she screeched in a heavy southern accent. "My Petey dealt with a lot of bad people…a lot of bad, _bad _people! It was them that did this! I know it was!"

Lisa let out a heavy sigh of relief, almost laughing to herself.

"Come on, Leese," she said aloud to herself, glancing over her shoulder nonetheless. "Not everyone with dark hair and blue eyes has to be…"

"Jackson."

Lisa froze and turned back to the TV, her eyes widening even more. A homeless man stood by a bar, shaking profusely and looking decidedly frightened.

"What was that?" the man in the suit asked, holding up his microphone.

"His name was Jackson," the homeless man said. He looked directly into the camera. "But he told Pete to call him Jack." Lisa stood up numbly, backing away from the television as if somehow Jackson was going to leap out and get her.

"No," she whispered firmly. "It's a different Jackson. It's a different Jackson!"

She backed away slowly and then turned and practically sprinted over to the kitchen, picking up the telephone swiftly. The tears were already welling in her eyes. She hated that almost three months had gone by, and still she got all emotional at the drop of a hat.

She dialed the number quickly, barely even glancing at the buttons. She shot a glance back at the television and literally dropped the phone to the floor as she saw what was on the screen.

"This photograph was found at the scene…" the announcer was saying. "Pinned by a knife to Mr. Johnson's chest.

Lisa's hands went to her chest as the picture remained unmoving on the screen. The woman's face was not in the shot, but the scar on the woman's chest was enough for her to know that it was a picture of herself.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

"There was also a blood-covered note on his chest, which read, simply 'Think of this as an apology'.

Lisa froze as it all came to her in a sudden rush. She sank to the floor against the wall and watched as a picture of the deceased flashed onto the screen. She gazed at it numbly, trying to pick out something that she recognized…and then she saw it.

_"Hel…" she tried to scream, but a hand covered her mouth swiftly and she felt herself being dragged backwards into the shadows. She kicked her legs and tried to land at least one groin shot, but he was careful. She bit his hand furiously, but he pulled out knife, and she froze, staring at it glinting in the sunlight. And on his arm, the one that clutched the knife, was a tattoo of a heart, with the name 'Suzie' inside. _

There was a tattoo on the man's arm. The same tattoo. The heart…with Suzie…

Lisa's heart began to beat rapidly, and she squeezed her eyes shut, pulling her knees to her chest and putting her hands on either side of her head, trying to shut the memories out that way.

_"Did someone do this to you"_

_His eyes stared into hers. 'I will kill that jackass,' they said, louder than any words._

"No, no, no, no, no," Lisa muttered. "That wasn't him. There's no way he could have found him…"

The argument sounded weak, even to her. She, of all people should know what Jackson was capable of. She let go of her head and rested it back against the wall, folding her hands in front of her as if in prayer.

"A rough police sketch of the man was done based on descriptions given to us by Mr. Anthony Michaels."

Lisa glanced towards the television and smiled slightly, a huff of a laugh escaping her lips before she could stop it. The man in the picture looked _nothing _like Jackson.

"If anyone has seen or heard from this man, please notify the authorities."

The newcast ended and went back to the anchorman and woman, who talked about how 'horrible' the killing was. Lisa finally turned it off with the remote, still feeling numb as she tried to get to her feet. She could dimly hear someone yelling, and looked around with confusion before she spotted the phone lying on the ground. She got up and walked to it, picking it up slowly.

"Lisa? Lisa, come on, are you there? Lisa!'

"Yeah, I'm here," Lisa said, closing her eyes and squeezing the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Cynthia…something's happened."

* * *

And so Lisa found herself sitting on her couch, flipping through the channels and looking for another newscast involving Peter Johnson while waiting for Cynthia to arrive. She caught the very end of one of them, which just showed the front of the bar and had the bartender saying a few words about Peter. They didn't mention Jackson at all. Other than that, there was nothing else on. Of course, at seven in the morning, that was to be expected.

When Cynthia finally arrived, Lisa told her the story in great gulping sobs, trying to at least make her words sound intelligible to her friend. Though she was sure that not a word of it made sense, Cynthia seemed to understand everything, and she reassured Lisa that the hotel could survive a day without their manager.

"Maybe I should be there," Lisa said nervously. "I don't want to stay here alone, Cynthia."

Cynthia shook her head.

"You stay here," she ordered. "I'll stop by during lunch, and you can call me whenever you need me, okay? Then when my shift's over at eight, I'll head back here and spend the night."

Lisa smiled at Cynthia gratefully. Since the 'Keefe incident', as they called it, they had become really close. Cynthia was Lisa's first real friend since she graduated from college, and she was happy to have her around, especially in moments like this.

"I thought you were going out to dinner with Dan tonight," Lisa said suggestively, even though she knew that the dinner with Dan was for the following night, Tuesday. She just wanted to get the topic and her mind on positive things and off of Jackson Rippner.

"No, no, no, that's tomorrow," Cynthia said, blushing slightly and looking down at the ground.

"Ahh," Lisa said, nodding. "Right." Cynthia grinned at her, then frowned slightly.

"You haven't even changed out of your work clothes yet," she said accusingly. "Get into some pajamas or something,"

"Yeah," Lisa said, nodding. "I will."

She stood weakly, shaking off Cynthia's support gently.

"You okay?" Cynthia asked, glancing at the clock. "Oh, shit…I have to get going, Lisa. Are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah," Lisa said, nodding hurriedly, looking slightly sick. "Go ahead. I should take a shower or something."

"Yeah," Cynthia said, nodding and glancing around the apartment once before nodding again and turning back to Lisa. "I'll stop by later. If you hear anything else or if something's wrong, just call, okay?"

"Yeah," Lisa said slowly. Cynthia looked around the room again and, satisfied that everything was in order, reached out for a hug. Lisa returned it gladly and allowed the other woman to comfort her.

"Don't worry, Lisa," Cynthia said sweetly. "He's probably long gone on another job."

Lisa nodded guiltily and murmured something that kind of sounded like an agreement. She hadn't told Cynthia the _whole _story. After all, Cynthia hadn't heard about the rape, and she didn't want to tell her now. She just told her that Jackson had killed someone. She wanted to tell Cynthia the whole truth, but part of her knew that she just couldn't do it.

* * *

Cynthia left after a few minutes of checking and double checking to make sure that Lisa was okay, and Lisa walked into her bedroom to take a shower, picking her field hockey stick off the ground next to the bed and taking it with her into the bathroom along with the phone in case anyone called. Once in there, she closed and locked the door, and even moved the heavy dresser that held all her pajamas, bathrobes, slippers and other necessities in front of the door. She realized that she was being ridiculous, since Jackson hadn't come to her apartment yet in three months, and he had been just as free that whole time. The chances of him coming to get her were very slim.

Though, Lisa reasoned, the chances of Jackson choosing her to aid him in his plan were slimmer, and look how that had turned out. He could have chosen anyone, _anyone_ to help him, but he chose her. The chances of him killing her rapist were slim; and currently Peter Johnson's death was being broadcast all over the news. It was very possible that he was heading towards her apartment at that very moment. Maybe he was even parked across the street in a dark car, watching her building. Maybe he was in a van, watching computer screens that showed footage from the hidden cameras in all of her rooms. Maybe he was watching her…

She glanced around the room quickly, suddenly overtaken by a horrible sort of paranoia. Her heart was beating faster and her blood was rushing in her ears, even though nothing had happened to cause that kind of reaction.

"Relax, Leese," she whispered to herself, running a hand through her brown curls and closing her eyes, taking a deep, calming breath. Once she had inhaled and let out a great, gulping, shuddering half-sob, she managed to pull herself together, and she raised one arm, her lips twitching into a smirk as she raised her middle finger and spun around in a slow circle. She knew that if Jackson were watching, he'd get a kick out of it. Plus, it felt really good.

That done, Lisa began to undress, purposely keeping her eyes off of the mirror so she wouldn't stop and get involved in staring at her scar. She knew that if that happened, then she would end up having another breakdown, and she had already had one too many that day for her liking.

She got into the shower, letting the hot water wash over her and clean away the horror of half an hour ago. She tried to think about work, about her father, about Cynthia…but the only thing that came to her mind was Jackson.

_"Did someone do this to you?"_

She closed her eyes and started washing her hair slowly. She could almost _smell _him. Was it so bad that a man was threatening to kill her father, and yet she noticed that he smelled delicious? Maybe that's why she feared him so much less than she had feared that man from the parking lot. Peter. Maybe it was because Peter had smelled so foul, so fearful…and Jackson had smelled good. He smelled trustworthy. Though, she thought with some bitterness, that was probably just part of the job as well. He had probably planned out everything like that, just to make her trust him when she first met him.

Stupid bastard.

She poured some shampoo into her hand and began to lather up her hair, glaring at the wall as if it was Jackson in disguise. Sometimes she felt like she had moved on, and that she no longer would dream about him or hear him or smell him…but then the next day she would be just as paranoid; just as obsessive.

Sometimes, though it was rarely, she would have a very different attitude. Some mornings she woke up thinking that she forgave him for everything he did. She told herself that he didn't want to hurt her; after all, he never lied, and he told her that he wouldn't hurt her. He promised her. Jackson Rippner never broke his promises.

_"I promised."_

_"You promised what?"_

_Lisa clutched her purse nervously as Jackson stared up at her, breathing heavily, some machine beeping steadily in the background._

_"I wouldn't hurt you."_

Lisa shook her head and willed the memory away, turning and letting the water wash the shampoo out of her hair.

_"But you did hurt me."_

_Her eyes, accusing, stared into his. He looked away._

_"That was never my intention," he whispered._

Lisa pulled the conditioner off of the shelf next to her and squirted some of that into her hand too, rubbing it through her hair and lathering that up as well. Her thoughts switched automatically to the new front desk man, Dan, and Cynthia. They looked so adorable together. Lisa would find herself watching them with a wistful smile often, wishing that she…

_Wishing that I what? _Lisa asked herself, and she stopped spreading the conditioner in her hair as a thought struck her. A thought that she had never accepted before. She wished that Jackson had turned out to be the polite, charming man at the airport. She knew that she would have ended up giving him her number as the flight progressed, and they probably would have continued to talk. Maybe, just maybe, they would have continued into a relationship. Lisa's first in two years.

She paused for a moment, thinking about that. She and Jackson watching a movie on the couch, going out to eat, doing normal things like doing the laundry and going shopping for new drapes. She would have thought imagining Jackson doing anything remotely sweet or domestic would have been a little harder to imagine.

_Then again, he _did _kill Peter…_

Yes, he killed Peter. And why? She started washing the conditioner out of her hair as she thought. Why had he killed the man who raped her? Was it some kind of personal quest, or was it a job with a sick coincidence. Lisa was disgusted to realize that she _wished_ it was the former.

_Jackson Rippner is not capable of feelings, _she told herself angrily. _He wouldn't have hunted down your…rapist and killed him if there wasn't money involved._

She couldn't shake the feeling, however, that it was kind of sweet, what he did, even though it involved murder.

Lisa got some shower gel on a loufa and started cleaning herself off, shaking her head slightly.

_Sweet. Right, Lisa. Jackson Rippner is the sweetest man you've ever met._

She sighed and rinsed herself off, not wanting to ever emerge into the cold air, back into the world where _he_ could come find her; back where she had nothing to do but watch the news and wait for information on the murder and eat dry cereal. She wished that she could stay in the warm safety of the shower forever, safe and relatively sane.

_"Did someone do this to you?"_

She screamed in frustration. The noise surprised her, and she jumped, startled. What the hell was wrong with her? Screaming at memories!

_"So…what now?"_

_"Now I'm probably going to die."_

_That infallible honestly surprised her, and she arched an eyebrow at him._

She twisted the knob violently and turned the shower off, pushing the shower curtain aside and half-expecting to see the smiling face of Jackson Rippner just beyond it. But there was nothing. It was just her bathroom, now filled with steam. The childish part of Lisa feared that maybe Jackson would materialize out of the fog like a ghost.

But no. Jackson wasn't dead. He was very much alive.

She shuddered at the thought and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself and grabbing some pajamas out of the dresser, which was still pressed up against the door.

Suddenly, without warning, she fell to the ground and began sobbing.

* * *

_It was the second time she was visiting him. She knew that she looked desperate, but, in truth... she was. She wanted him to get out of her head. She wanted more assurance that he was a cocky bastard and a jackass and would never be anything more. She wanted airport-Jackson out of her head, and she wanted to get air_plane_-Jackson firmly implanted in there so she could go about fearing him and being paranoid that he was going to find her. She wanted to get over that little fear that maybe, just maybe, he was more than just his job._

_She walked into the room, surprised that there was no police guard. Jackson was sitting up, reading a book. Lisa saw that one leg was attached to the end of the bed with handcuffs. She stood there in the doorway for a few moments until Jackson turned his head slightly and looked over at her. He smiled as if he was happy to see her._

_"Lisa!" he exclaimed pleasantly. "What a surprise! Come in, come in. Don't just stand there in the doorway."_

_He flashed a million-watt grin at her, and she hesitantly started towards the chair that she had occupied on her last visit. _

_"I heard about what happened," she said, slowly sinking into the chair as if deflating. She pushed it further back from the bed, as if he could reach her from where he was lying._

_"And I never would have gotten out of it if it wasn't for you, Leese," he said, still grinning. He pointed to the bedside table, which was too far from the bed for him to reach. "They let me keep the knife. Put it in there, of course."_

_Lisa glanced at the table and then back at Jackson suspiciously. She didn't know why he was so cheerful, but he certainly seemed to be in a good mood. _

_"I suppose they'll send more people after you, though," she remarked casually. He glanced at her, looking slightly hurt, but also slightly amused. _

_"Probably," he said. "But maybe this time the right ones will get here first."_

_"What do you mean the right ones?" Lisa asked. Jackson shrugged._

_"The ones who don't want to kill me," he said. Lisa finally understood, and she glared at him angrily. _

_"You mean the ones who are going to come and get you out," she said. _

_"Most likely," Jackson laughed. Suddenly he grew serious. "Why'd you come back?" he asked, and if Lisa didn't know any better, she'd say that his voice sounded…haunted.

* * *

_

Lisa sobbed harder, trying to cry the memories out in her tears, which ran down her face, cold against the hot steamy air and her burning cheeks. She didn't want to move, or ever get up off that bathroom floor, but she knew she had to. If there was one positive thing that she took away from the incident with Jackson, it was the willpower to do what she knew she needed to do.

She pulled herself up and put on her light green and gray flannel pajama pants, which were huge and baggy and dragged on the floor when she walked. Then she pulled on a white tank top, for once not caring that her scar would be jarringly visible. Then she got a pair of big, fluffy slippers and her comfortable black bathrobe, not bothering to tie it and instead letting it drag on the floor. She double-checked her appearance, then brushed out her hair, finally deciding that she looked presentable enough. There was no need to look like a total slob in front of Cynthia.

She pushed the dresser out from behind the door, dumped her dirty clothes into the hamper, grabbed her field hockey stick, picked up the phone, and opened the door.

"Lisa!"

In the shock at seeing someone at the door, Lisa screamed and dropped both the phone and the hockey stick. But it was only Cynthia.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry," she apologized quickly, though she wasn't sure what she was sorry for.

"No, no, I'm sorry," Cynthia said quickly, looking like she wanted to hit herself. "I got worried when you didn't answer the door; I totally forgot you said you were going to be taking a shower…"

"It's okay," Lisa said calmly, shaking her head quickly as if to rid it of the lingering surprise in fear. "Why'd you come back?"

"The news," Cynthia said quickly, as if just remembering. "I was buying a coffee and they had the news on…come on."

She took Lisa's hand, and they hurried into the other room, leaving Lisa's dropped things on the ground behind them. Cynthia turned on the TV. The newscaster was saying something about an impending hurricane. Lisa glanced at Cynthia, arching an eyebrow.

"Just wait," Cynthia said. "They said it was coming up at eight."

It was seven fifty-two. Eight minutes later, right at eight o'clock, the news woman stopped talking cheerfully about the local charity event that was going to raise money for a little girl named Sarah Hathaway who was suffering from leukemia, and changed tones dramatically, her facial expression changing to one of sadness. Both Cynthia and Lisa sat up straighter, awaiting the report.

"Early this morning at approximately five-forty-five, a man named Peter Johnson was killed on Don street at a bar named Mickey's by an unknown assailant. The only witness to the murder was a Mr. Anthony Michaels, who was intoxicated at the time and was unable to give an accurate description of the man who killed Mr. Johnson. He was, however, able to get us his name."

The scene switched to the one that Lisa remembered from earlier. The homeless-looking man was talking to the man in the expensive suit.

"Jackson," he said fearfully, then he turned and looked into the camera, his eyes unfocused and bleary. "But he told Pete to call him Jack."

Lisa shuddered slightly and drew the bathrobe tighter. She and Cynthia moved closer together instinctively, giggling nervously when they realized they did it.

"More details about the victim have been released," the anchorwoman continued, and Lisa saw a small unconscious sneer appear on the woman's face. She knew what was coming. "It was discovered that he was a past convicted rapist and been involved in several domestic disputes with his ex-wife, who was unavailable to comment."

The scene cut to the photograph of Lisa's chest, and Lisa drew the bathrobe tighter around her, wondering if Cynthia had noticed the scar. Apparently she hadn't, because the other woman just looked confused.

"This photograph was found on the body of the deceased," the anchorwoman said. "Police speculate that the killer was connected to one of Mr. Johnson's rape victims."

Lisa's eyes widened and she nodded begrudgingly. They really figured it out that time.

"So, what, this Jackson guy just goes around killing people for fun?" Cynthia asked, making a face and turning to Lisa, opening her mouth to ask a question. But she froze as she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye.

"Actually... I never was much of a killer."


	2. Surrender To Nothing

Wow, sorry for the really long wait. I had the first three chapters written and was working on the fourth, but stupidly hadn't saved the document at all. So my Microsoft word froze one day and deleted the whole thing. I had to type it all over again. Oh man, that sucked so bad, hahaha.

Thanks soooo much for all the reviews :) It made my day every day to get those alerts!

**BregoBeauty: **Haha, yes, that is indeed Jackson. And he has a reason for being there too ;). Thanks for reviewing!

**Hidden-rose15: **I like cliffhangers too, so many of my chapters end with one, hahaha. And yeah…he was probably in her apartment for a while, knowing him. Haha, he's such a stalker! But we love him anyway ;) Thanks for the review!

**Luv is a battlefield: **Yay! I'm glad you think my story is freaking awesome, hahaha. And you're welcome for the long chapter. Most of them will be pretty long…though this one is actually relatively short. Thanks for reviewing!

**Jennifer: **I'm glad I hooked you! Now I just hope I can keep you hooked! Haha! Thanks for the review!

**Dark angel121: **Wow! Thanks so much for the compliments! I read that all with a huge smile, because that was the nicest review anyone has ever given me! I'm so glad you love the story, and I hope I can live up to the expectations that you have of me :) Thanks for the kind words and confidence boost and the review!

**Dave-The-Laugh's-NewHotness: **What's gonna happen? Hehe, well, you'll just have to read and find out ;) Thanks for reviewing!

**Hikyaku: **I'm glad you liked it! And sorry I kept you waiting so long! Haha, your computer seems to not like my story! Hope it doesn't do it again! Thanks so much for the kind words and the review!

**Babs08: **Teehee, yep, cliffhanger. Guess you'll be angry with the end of this one too o:-) And yep, this is going to be a chapter fic! YES! Thanks for reviewing!

**_Disclaimer: _**Nothing's mine. If it were, I would be a much more happy person.

* * *

**Chapter 2: **Surrender to Nothing.

_I won't suffer, be broken __  
Get tired, or wasted. __  
**Surrender to nothing **__  
I'll give up what I started __  
And stop this__  
From end to beginning.__  
A new day is coming…__  
And I am finally free._

**30 Seconds to Mars  
Attack**

"Actually, I never was much of a killer."

Lisa and Cynthia whirled around to face Jackson with horror written on their faces, leaping to their feet in the same movement and clutching each other for support. Then Cynthia's ankle gave out and she collapsed to the ground, naturally bringing Lisa down with her.

Through all of this, the man leaning against the doorframe to the guest bedroom and bathroom just smirked and shook his head. Though the matter wasn't one of any amusement at all, he could find at least a little humor in this moment, as he had known all along he would. He had looked forward to seeing their reactions. Especially Lisa's.

He took a sip of the soda that he had taken from Lisa's refrigerator, and she winced angrily. She had been saving that.

"Apparently you're not much of a gentleman either," she said mockingly, tilting her head to the side slightly and forcing a sarcastically sweet smile. "Taking the last soda out of someone else's fridge? I'm surprised. I always thought you had _class._"

Jackson looked down at the soda in his hand in surprise, making a face and laughing slightly.

"You got me," he said calmly. He walked forward a few steps, prompting the two fallen girls to spring to their feet with amazing speed. He just smirked at them knowingly and set the soda down on the counter. "I'll buy you a whole case later, Leese. How does that sound?"

As if that were some kind of reassurance that he wasn't going to hurt her, the formerly tense muscles in Lisa's body all relaxed, and she sighed heavily with apparent relief. Cynthia continued to look absolutely terrified.

"Sounds like you're not here for revenge," Lisa remarked, managing to keep the hope out of her voice. Not that it mattered much when she was dealing with Jackson. He knew she was feeling it.

"Now why would I want revenge, Leese?" he asked innocently, pursing his lips slightly as if he were fighting back a smile, or fighting back the urge to hit her. She wasn't really sure which.

"I don't know, Jack," she said tauntingly. "You the kind of person who looks out for revenge?"

"Not normally," Jackson replied, shrugging. "Though if you keep calling me that, I may have to make an exception."

"How about you call me 'Lisa', then?" she asked with just as much mocking sarcasm. She was meeting him stride for stride, and instead of wanting to hit her for it, he was enjoying it. He never was one to pass up a good argument. And Lisa certainly made for a good argument.

"But Leese is such a cute nickname," he said in a sweet voice. She narrowed her eyes.

"Jack ain't all that bad either," she said stubbornly. He grinned at her, but she didn't smile back, not even sarcastically. She just stared at him and waited, looking unsure of herself.

_Am I really standing here in my living room fighting with Jackson Rippner about nicknames? _She asked herself. She shook her head. _Great. Now you're going crazy. Just great._

She backed up a step, pulling Cynthia with her. Cynthia was still looking like someone had hit her in the face. Lisa wondered if she was okay.

"So, Leese, how've you been?" Jackson asked casually. Lisa glared at him. She was done with the banter and the teasing. As cute as it all was, she wanted him out of her apartment, and she wanted him to leave her the hell alone.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him impatiently. He could sense the anger and urgency in her voice and decided that maybe it wasn't the best time to play around. Then again…

"What, not glad to see me?" he asked, false-pouting. She glared at him.

"Why are you here?" she asked, drawing the words out for emphasis. He sighed. Apparently she didn't want to have any fun. But then he knew how to get to her. He smiled slightly.

"Didn't get my apology?" he asked.

"I got it, thanks," Lisa growled through clenched teeth after a short pause in which she appeared to be trying to keep her emotions in check.

"Then why so hostile?" Jackson asked, pretending to be hurt. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Lisa, Lisa, Lisa. Am I going to have to kill _another_ bothersome figure in your life to get you to forgive me? How about the father of that boy who pulled the fire alarm at work? He was a pain in the ass, wasn't he?"

"Jackson…" Lisa started warningly as Cynthia looked at her questioningly.

"Or maybe that couple who was arguing in the lobby today. Two for one deal. What do you say?"

"Shut the hell up," Lisa said in a low, dangerous voice.

"Or is there another parking lot incident I should know about? I'll admit, tracking rapists isn't the most desirable of professions. I enjoyed stalking you a lot more."

"Go to hell, Jackson," Lisa sneered at him, taking Cynthia's arm as if trying to protect her from something. At first, Jackson thought that she was trying to protect her from him, but then something hit him.

"You didn't tell her," he said slowly, looking at her with surprise. He certainly hadn't expected that.

"Tell me what?" Cynthia asked, finally finding her voice. "She told me all about you."

Jackson looked at Lisa knowingly. She stared back at him with her eyes narrowed in anger. She knew that he wasn't talking about him.

"I thought you'd have already told her," he said casually, the devilish glint coming back into his eyes. She didn't say a word; just glared at him contemptuously. "No? Why not?"

"Why are you here?" she responded automatically, her eyes barely slits now.

"I came to steal you," he said with a straight face. "Remember, Lisa, I never lie."

He looked at her pointedly, and she glared back at him. He had to hand it to her; either she was really good at hiding her fear, or she called his bluff and knew he was joking. Either way, he was impressed.

"Why are you _really _here?" she asked in a voice that said she was running out of patience. He looked around and sighed.

"Really, Leese, you'd think killing your…"

"Shut the _fuck _up, Jackson!" Lisa yelled suddenly, losing her cool and walking backwards towards the bedroom door, dragging Cynthia by the arm along with her. Jackson walked slowly after them after the initial shock of her backing away from him so suddenly.

_What the _fuck _is she doing? _He asked himself wearily. He was really getting tired of dealing with her. Though, he admitted, he would have probably been disappointed if she had been anything less than her usual, uncooperative self.

"Lisa…" he started, but suddenly she appeared out of the bedroom, wielding that damn hockey stick. He barely had time to get his arm up before she was swinging, and it landed a hard blow on his elbow. He hissed in pain and grabbed the stick, trying to pull it out of her hands.

When that didn't work (_Damn good grip_, he admitted begrudgingly) he tried to shove her into the wall. However, she was one step ahead of him and spun around and slammed _him _into it instead. He quirked an eyebrow at her, surprised.

"Looks like those self-defense lessons really paid off," he remarked offhand. She glared at him and promptly kneed him in the groin.

He fell to his knees, stars exploding in his vision. _Damn her_, the ruthless part of his mind was screaming, but from a purely logical standpoint, he was just proud of her for kicking his ass.

When his vision cleared and he looked up at her, he saw with surprise that she was holding a gun in her trembling fingers, and it was pointed directly at him.

"Yeah," she said with just the right touch of smugness. "They did."

He grinned at her, and she grinned back, finally lowering the weapon and taking a few steps back. Cynthia stood watching them from the doorway, looking at them with her mouth gaping in utter confusion.

"Um…Lisa?" she said slowly. "Okay…let's think about what you've been saying to me for the past three months for a sec. You say that you want him to just die so you can move on with your life…"

"Ouch, Leese," Jackson remarked flippantly. "That hurts."

"…But now when you have the chance to do him in right here and right now…you don't take it?"

Jackson struggled to his feet, the back of his head aching slightly from where it hit the wall.

"You said that?" he asked Lisa, arching an eyebrow.

"He's trying to _kill _us!" Cynthia exclaimed incredulously. "I don't know if maybe you're a little _too _tired, but he's definitely not here to just have a chat and take off."

Damn that girl. She needed to shut her mouth.

"I'm not here to kill you," Jackson said bitterly. Cynthia shot him a glare that surprised Jackson greatly. Apparently Cynthia was a very loyal friend. He never would have taken her for one.

"Yeah, right," the red haired woman spat. "What about last time, huh? You can't tell me that you weren't going to kill her then."

The fire from the usually timid Cynthia was completely unexpected, and Jackson actually looked mildly surprised for a moment before covering it with his usual mask of indifference.

"I've told you," he said calmly. "I'm not a person who seeks revenge. That time, I didn't have time to think. I just acted without even considering what I was doing. This time, I've had three months to think of it. Two months following that disgusting Johnson man, and one month in that hospital." He turned and looked at Lisa, arching an eyebrow. "With nothing to look forward to but your lovely visits, Leese."

That news seemed to shock Cynthia more than anything so far. She even tensed visibly; her muscles going rigid as she spun to face Lisa with her mouth working furiously.

"_What_?" she asked finally. Lisa looked down at the ground, ashamed. She had told Cynthia that she was visiting an old friend in the hospital those few times that she had visited him. It certainly wasn't the truth (Jackson was anything but a friend), but Lisa had been fairly certain that the lie would never catch up to her. Cynthia wasn't really one to go snooping around to discover who the said friend was, and she never could have predicted that she would be standing in her living room with the two of them on either side of her as if facing off.

"I visited him in the hospital a few times," Lisa said slowly, watching Cynthia's reaction as the pieces all came together in her mind.

"Why didn't you tell me?" the other woman asked, sounding slightly hurt. Lisa sighed heavily, closing her eyes for a moment. Suddenly she felt more tired than ever.

"I didn't want you to get the wrong impression, "she said quietly. "I didn't want you to think that I was going for any reason other than proving to myself that he's an asshole and always will be."

She turned and gave Jackson a glare that held very little conviction. Cynthia glanced at him with a petulant frown on her face, and Jackson grinned at them both as if to say 'yep, that's me.' Cynthia turned back to Lisa.

"So kill him!" she exclaimed vehemently. Lisa looked over at him, and he could see the refusal written on her face even before she said anything.

"You don't want me to kill him," she said painfully.

"Umm…I'm pretty sure I do," Cynthia retorted.

"You're a vicious bitch, aren't you?" Jackson asked with a falsely cheerful smile. She glared at him. Lisa still held the gun limply in her hand. Jackson eyed it warily.

"What do you want with me?" Lisa asked bitterly, and his eyes flickered from the gun to her eyes, which were watching him carefully. He saw that her eyes were filled with hurt and fear. The fear wasn't all that surprising, but the hurt was a little harder to figure out. But, figuring out the reasons behind peoples' emotions was his job, and there was nothing in the world that Jackson Rippner was better at than his job.

Therefore, it didn't take him long at all to deduce that she felt some sort of connection with him; whatever it may be. She felt like they had some sort of treaty, and that by breaking into her home and violating her space, he was breaking it.

"What do you think I want with you?" he asked, stalling for time. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly seven thirty. How time flew when one was having fun. But they had to have a little more fun before he could get to the dirty.

"If I said that you just wanted to stop in to say hello and tell me that you were leaving my life forever…would it be so far off the mark?" Lisa asked, her eyes narrow slits once again. Jackson chuckled.

"Really, Lisa!" he exclaimed, shaking his head. "I thought we parted ways on rather good terms. Apparently you had some hidden animosity that you managed to keep from me."

"I wouldn't call it animosity, Jack," Lisa spat angrily, still holding that damn gun. "And it's not like my bad feelings towards you aren't justified. You _did _try to kill me and my father."

"I never would have had to if you would have just made the call," Jackson replied pointedly.

"And let you kill Keefe?" Lisa asked, tilting her head to one side. "_And _his family? Keefe is a good man, Jackson. I know it must be hard to recognize their type, but there are a few left in the world."

Jackson chuckled to himself, running a hand through his hair. It had gotten slightly longer in the months since he had seen Lisa.

"I wouldn't call Keefe a good man," he said. "But I'd never have gotten involved if it wasn't my job, remember."

"Yeah, your job," Lisa spat with disgust. He sighed slightly. He would never be able to justify his job to someone like Lisa. She was good, kind…she had morals. She was far to stuck in her views of right and wrong to ever understand why he did what he did for a living. Jackson had known few people like that, and wasn't exactly used to dealing with them.

"Yes, my job," he repeated. "It pays the bills, Leese, and gives me some extra cash for myself." He flashed a grin, enjoying the equal looks of disgust on their faces.

"So, what?" Lisa asked slowly. "You're here to finish the job?"

"No, no," he said with a small laugh. "I've retired."

This information seemed to surprise Lisa greatly.

"You…what?" she asked him, as if she hadn't heard.

"I retired," Jackson replied, shrugging. "You were my last assignment."

"Why?" Lisa asked suspiciously. Jackson shrugged.

"Lack of interest," he replied offhand, as if it really didn't matter. "A month in the hospital made me think about some things that I hadn't been willing to admit to myself before."

"Like what?" Lisa asked. Jackson sighed.

"Again with the questions," he said, laughing slightly. "When will you realize that these questions get you nowhere?"

"How about you tell me why you're here, and I won't have to ask," Lisa retorted angrily. Jackson nodded his head in her direction.

"How about you bear with me?" he said, turning and looking out the window behind him.

"Get away from the window," Lisa said suddenly, her arm snapping up. He found himself once again under the scrutinizing gaze of the end of that damn gun.

"What are you doing?" he asked, angry with himself for feeling a small amount of fear. He knew that she would shoot him in a heartbeat. She had done it and would do it again without a second thought. Still, he head dealt with plenty of people who would have killed him without a second thought, and he had never been scared before. Why Lisa?

"Get away…from the…fucking window," Lisa said slowly. He sighed and moved away, resisting the urge to raise his hands in the air as a sign of surrender. She kept the gun trained on him suspiciously.

"Happy?" he asked with some irritation.

"Not until you either tell me what you're doing here or get the hell out," Lisa retorted. Jackson sighed.

"You want to know that badly, fine," he said bitterly. "Though I was waiting for the right moment to tell you, but I guess now will have to do."

He put his hands on his hips, looking at her levelly and with a very serious expression.

"Tell me," Lisa prompted him.

"The men who hired me are coming after you," Jackson explained slowly. "They're still pissed off about the Keefe job, and want to make as many people suffer as is possible. So they decided to get you."

Lisa met the news with very little surprise. Cynthia, on the other hand, was flabbergasted and surprised.

"What?" she asked, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath before facing Jackson angrily. "Why are they coming after her for defending herself and her father?"

"They're not coming after her for that," Jackson replied tiredly. "They're coming after her for defending Keefe."

The room was silent once more. Lisa still held the gun on him, mistrust in her eyes. After a few minutes of complete silence, she cleared her throat and spoke up.

"You still didn't say why you're here," she said slowly, admittedly fearing the worst. Jackson sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair, looking down at the ground as if thinking of the right way to word it. Then, he looked back up, his startling blue eyes boring into hers honestly.

"I'm here to protect you."


	3. Run Away, Run Away

Okay, here's three! This took a while to write, and I have no idea why! I kept redoing it and stuff….oh well, hope you like it!

Thanks everyone for reviewing! And please, _please, **please **_review again :) Please!

**Bimefl: **Thanks!

**Andraya: **Haha, you'll have to read ahead and see. There's another cliffhanger though :) Thanks for reviewing!

**Playnirvana24: **Ah! My babies! Haha, I'm glad you like it though! Thanks for reviewing!

**Tenshi-no-fushigi: **I'm glad you like my stories! And I'm glad you think I characterized them well. That's always my biggest concern when writing fanfic! So for you to say I did it well is a huuuge compliment to me :) Thanks for taking the time to review!

**Babs08: **Yay! You like it! Hahaha. And holy God yes, Jackson is hot. I wish I had an ex-assassin too…damn the luck! Thanks for reviewing!

**The-Primcess-06: **Yay! I'm glad you like it! I like reading long chapters, so I try to keep mine long, haha. Though this one's shorter than usual, actually, which is sad. Thanks for reviewing!

**Riddick's Sita: **Damn right he needs someone to protect him from Lisa! He needs an army! Haha! Thanks for the review!

* * *

**Chapter 3: **Run Away, Run Away

**Run away, Run away  
**I'll attack  
**Run away, Run away  
**Go change yourself.**  
Run away, run away now**  
I'll attack, I'll attack  
I'll a….

"I'm here to protect you."

* * *

Jackson's declaration was met with utter silence. It was one of those clichéd silences in which you could hear your own heart beat, hear a pin drop, hear crickets chirping, and an assortment of other impossibly quiet noises. Jackson _hated _silence.

He wasn't exactly sure why, but he had always hated it. Just the fact that he _could _hear so much stuff, stuff that he probably didn't _want _to hear, bothered him. Especially when the reaction of the woman standing in front of him was most likely the most important reaction he would ever witness. One could call it a life or death situation.

"You…" Lisa started, but she trailed off, looking at him with her disbelief plain on her features. "You're here…" She stopped and shook her head, looking like someone had just hit her over the head with something. "No…that's not…no."

"I'm here to protect you," he said again, slower, as if she hadn't heard him the first time.

"I heard you," she muttered angrily. "I just don't believe you."

He smirked at her.

"Come on, Leese," he said, shrugging. "Have you ever known me to lie?"

Lisa was quiet. No, he certainly hadn't lied to her. Not that she knew of anyway. In fact, that was pretty much the only thing that kept her from shooting him right away, that tiny voice in the back of her head saying '_but…he doesn't lie!' _

"No," she said darkly. "But there's a first time for everything."

He sighed and walked towards the window, stopping when he remembered the last time he tried to do that. He turned back towards Lisa, raising his eyebrows.

"Okay if I try to show you something outside?" he asked. Lisa paused for a moment, considering, then nodded curtly. He sighed and beckoned to her, and she walked towards him with the gun still clutched in her hands. Cynthia sat down on the couch numbly.

"What are you showing me?" Lisa asked as she stood next to Jackson at the window. He put his hand on her shoulder, but she shoved it off, taking a step away from him with a rude glare. He grinned inwardly. She was making it perfectly evident that she was in charge. He liked that in a woman.

_Bastard_, Lisa thought with conviction.

"There," he said after a pause of searching the street below, pointing to a black van parked in an alley. "It's been parked there for three days."

"How do you know?" Lisa asked. Jackson gave her a knowing look. She rolled her eyes with frustration.

"Great," she remarked flippantly. "So I have two stalkers now."

"More than that," Jackson said with an incredulous laugh. "They weren't able to find anyone nearly as good as me, so they have three separate men trailing you." He smirked. "With me they only needed one. Shows you how good I am at my job, Leese."

"I'm sure you're amazing," Lisa deadpanned, unable to suppress a small shake of the head, which was, in her head, equivalent to 'go fuck yourself'. It just made him smile wider. "But what do you propose we do about them?"

"Well it's obviously not safe here," Jackson reasoned. "We have to get out of here as fast as we possibly can."

"How?" Lisa asked, arching an eyebrow. "They're watching us, aren't they?"

"Yes, but they believe you're going into work soon," Jackson replied. "They'll have men stationed solely at your workplace, and some at your home. None will follow you from point A to point B."

"Don't they have cameras in here?" Lisa asked suspiciously, looking around.

"Just one in the bathroom," Jackson said with a smirk. Lisa gaped with disgust. "They're not the smartest of fellows, and couldn't get it to work in here, so they hid it in the bathroom. Just for fun."

Lisa made a face and sighed, looking disgusted and a little fearful, though he knew she would never admit that.

"One more question," she said, and the look in her eyes told him that it was going to be the most important question.

"Yes?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest and waiting for it patiently.

"Why?" she asked him, narrowing her gaze and focusing on his brilliant blue eyes. "Why do you want to protect me?"

_Dammit_. She got him. He had been hoping against all hope that she wouldn't ask him that. He tried to think quickly, but there was nothing coming to him, so he just said the first thing that popped into his head.

"Couldn't tell you."

Remembering that she had said the same thing when she visited him at the hospital, she smiled slightly.

"Figured," she replied, using the same words that he had used when she said that. They grinned at each other before Lisa realized what she was doing and turned away towards Cynthia. "What about Cynth?" she asked, biting her lip and turning to face him.

"Are you serious?" Cynthia muttered from her spot, over-exaggeratingly rolling her eyes. "Lisa, are you really just going to believe him like that, just because he shows you a friggin truck parked across the street that he _claims _was there for three days? Christ, don't be stupid."

This time it was Lisa's turn to be surprised at the tone in Cynthia's voice. She had never really heard the young woman angry. Sure, she had been a little pissed at customers before, but nothing with this much fire. It was odd.

"I'm not being stupid," she shot back. "I've been expecting them to come after me from the beginning, Cynthia, you know that!"

"That doesn't mean he's not lying," Cynthia replied. "I don't know what the hell's wrong with you, Lisa, but you really need to stop taking this guy's word for everything."

God, she really needed to shut the hell up, Jackson decided. He sighed heavily, and both women turned to face him.

"I'm telling you, Leese, I'm not lying."

"The only thing I don't understand is why you would want to protect me," she said carefully in a confused tone. "I nearly killed you, and I got you in trouble with the people you work for…why would you come back to me. Why would you even _care_?"

The poor girl looked genuinely confused. He wasn't all that surprised. _He _wasn't even sure why he wanted to help her so much. He just…did. It was something that he couldn't explain, and he hated that; not knowing.

"If I knew why, Leese, you'd be the first to hear," he said, sighing heavily and shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. "But at the moment, I'm just as clueless as you are."

He smirked at her, but she didn't return the gesture this time. She just stared at him, her eyes looking bigger than usual. Then, she slowly looked over at Cynthia, who just sighed and threw her hands up in defeat.

"Whatever," she said with some disgust. "Though personally, I'd have shot him already, I suppose you know more about this whole thing than I do anyway."

Lisa nodded wordlessly and turned back towards Jackson, looking him in the eye almost sternly.

"I'm going to trust you," she said slowly. "Only because I seem to have no other choice. But just know that if you make one wrong move…I am going to kill you."

She frowned at him as if he had already done something wrong. He nodded slowly.

"I suppose that's fair," he said with another smile. She sighed and pressed the cool metal of the side of the gun against her forehead, closing her eyes and thinking to herself.

"So, Jack," she said after a long pause, turning to him and opening her eyes, letting the gun fall down to her side. "You're in charge. What do we do now?"

Jackson looked towards Cynthia and saw that she was watching with grudging interest. She wanted to see what he was going to suggest.

"We have to get out of here," he replied. "And this is what we need to do." He paused and glanced around the room, his eyes settling on a baseball cap on the hat rack next to the front door. He thought for a moment and then turned to Lisa, an idea formulating in his head. "We're going to disguise you."

"Disguise me?" Lisa asked, arching an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because they know what you look like," Jackson replied. "We could just send you off to work, then change your course about halfway there, but there are too many risks involved with that one. What if today's the only day that they send someone after you on the road, you see?"

"Yeah," Lisa said, nodding. "So we're just going to pretend that I'm someone else?"

"Exactly," Jackson replied. It shouldn't be too hard."

"Then what?" Lisa asked, as if she had just realized that they were going to have to go somewhere away from her home…somewhere that Jackson would probably pick.

"We hit a hotel or two," he replied, shrugging. "For a few weeks until I can get a hold on the situation and handle it myself."

"A few weeks?" Lisa asked, distressed. "But work…"

"Don't worry," Jackson said, arching an eyebrow. "We're going to play it off like you were kidnapped."

Lisa bit her lip and nodded slowly. She turned to Cynthia.

"Does that sound good?" she asked. Cynthia nodded slowly.

"I guess…" she said, making a face. "But why do I have to come too?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Jackson replied, shrugging, after a short pause. "You can walk out right now. You'll see Lisa in two weeks and everything will be fine."

"Lisa…" Cynthia started, looking at her friend questioningly.

"You should go," Lisa said, though part of her (most of her, admittedly) desperately wanted Cynthia to stay. "I don't want to drag you into this again."

"Okay," Cynthia said, nodding. She paused as if she was about to change her mind, but then nodded firmly once more. "Okay, I'll go."

She walked over to Lisa and wrapped her friend in a huge hug. Jackson mentally cheered. No more Cynthia getting in his way whenever he suggested something. Perfect.

"Just don't tell anyone about this," Jackson warned. "When the news comes that Lisa's been kidnapped…act surprised."

Cynthia nodded reluctantly.

"I'll see you in a few weeks," Lisa said, trying to sound cheerful.

"Yeah, see you then," Cynthia replied, looking sadly back at Lisa once again before slowly turning and walking out the door.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Jackson let out a mental sigh of relief. He crossed the living room and locked the front door.

"Okay," he said thoughtfully, pulling the hat off the hat rack and tossing it to her. "I want you to get dressed in casual clothes. _Casual_. Meaning jeans and a shirt. No skirts, all right?"

"Yeah, okay," Lisa said, nodding. She walked off into her bedroom, making a mental note to _not_ get changed in the bathroom. She locked her bedroom door instead, going to her closet and putting on jeans and a white spaghetti-strap shirt, throwing a light, gray sweatshirt over it. Inspecting herself in the large, floor-length mirror in front of the bathroom door, she decided that she looked…different.Shedidn't even recognize herself. Had it really been _that _long since she'd worn jeans? She tied her hair up and put the cap on her head. It had been almost three years since her last baseball game (which she had attended with her parents) but now she was glad that she had kept the thing around. It would certainly help her out some.

She walked over to her vanity and looked at the makeup spread out in front of her. She just stared at it for a moment before deciding on a slightly darker shade of lipstick than normal. She spread it on evenly, checked it in the mirror, and began applying eyeliner, adding tiny tips to the edges to make her eyes seem longer than they were. She knew that such little things may be able to divert the attentions of the men after her.

After contemplating for a moment longer, she added a faint flush to her cheeks, and then some lip liner, just to contrast even more from herself. After applying a huge amount of mascara, she stared at herself for a moment, her lips twitching up into a smile. Maybe she was better at this than she gave herself credit for. She hardly looked like the same person.

After finally tearing her gaze away from herself, she walked to her door and opened it tentatively. Jackson was leaning against the kitchen counter, reading the newspaper. When he saw her, he smiled.

"And who might you be?" he asked jokingly. Lisa wondered how he could be laughing and joking like that only three months after he had tried to kill she and her father. Still, she decided, she was going to be with him for a while. She might as well join in.

"Do I look like myself?" she asked with a shy smile. She looked down. "I can't remember the last time I wore jeans, actually." She forced a laugh. "Let alone sneakers."

Jackson laughed merrily and folded the newspaper, tossing it onto the couch.

"You look like a whole different person," he assured her. "No one will ever be able to tell the difference. Well…except me, of course, but I'm much better at my job than they are at theirs." He smirked and she allowed a small smile, looking down at herself again. She looked frail and helpless, with the long sleeves of the sweatshirt pulled down to the tips of her hands, and her jeans completely enveloping her slim legs. She grinned to herself with the knowledge that she was anything _but _frail and helpless.

"What should I do about clothes?" she asked, making a face. "You want me to pack some…?"

"Don't worry about that," Jackson replied. "I've got that much covered."

"Okay," Lisa said, shrugging. She wasn't exactly sure what he meant, but she wasn't in an arguing mood anymore. Besides, he was there to help her. She should at least try to be nice.

_Oh, who the fuck are you kidding?_

She sighed and looked at him expectantly. He caught the hint.

"Let's go," he said. "Now, here's our story. I know how good of an actress you are, so play along. We're a newly married couple out for a walk." As he spoke, he ran a hand through his hair and stuck another baseball cap on his head. Lisa wondered where he had found that. She thought she had lost it. "We're going shopping for furniture for our new apartment."

"All right," Lisa said, nodding decisively. Jackson pulled glasses out of his pocket and slipped them on. Lisa noticed for the first time that he was wearing jeans with his black blazer. Naturally, they looked to be very expensive jeans, but they were jeans nonetheless. He looked the perfect example of a typical upper-class businessman out to a casual dinner with his young wife; jeans, white shirt, and blazer. And she, dressed well and fashionable, but casual, looked like she belonged on his arm. She felt a stab of bitterness at the thought.

"You think you can do that?" Jackson asked, handing her purse over. Lisa nodded, and he checked himself in the mirror once before walking over to the door and opening it. "Good. Now…here we go."

He gestured for her to walk out in front of him, and she did, feeling open and vulnerable as she looked first one way down the hall, and then the other. He shut and locked the door behind him, and took her hand protectively as they made their way down the stairs. A few people smiled at them as they passed, but Lisa kept her face turned away the entire time. Anyone could be a potential enemy.

They made it down to the bottom, and Jackson pulled her tighter, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She put her arm around his waist awkwardly, though for him the movement seemed quite natural.

"Where we going?" she muttered to him.

"No, no, no, Leese," Jackson said with sickening sweetness, looking down at her with a winning smile. "You're in love, remember?"

"Of course," Lisa replied with just as much sugary ooze. Jackson chuckled lightly and glanced around.

"Lovely weather," he remarked loudly. Lisa nodded.

"Indeed," she said. He shoved his hand in his pocket and ambled along in silence, even whistling a little bit. Lisa willed herself to relax as well, and felt some of the tension drain out of her muscles. No one had seen them yet, and they were almost one hundred feet from her apartment.

"Okay," Jackson said thoughtfully. "I brought a cab here, told him to wait…"

He trailed off as they turned the corner and saw the cab waiting in the exact spot that he had told the driver to wait for him. He grinned and patted Lisa's shoulder reassuringly.

"We did it," Lisa said with her surprise evident. They walked towards the cab, and Jackson bent down to talk to the driver for a moment before turning to Lisa.

"We're set," he said, opening the door for her. She slid into the seat, and Jackson draped an arm around her shoulders comfortably once again. Remembering that they still had to keep up the charade of being married, she leaned into him.

"Newlyweds, eh?" the driver asked, shooting them a friendly glance in the rearview mirror.

"Yeah," Jackson replied with a dreamy sigh, perfect for a newlywed man entranced with his beautiful wife. Lisa smiled nervously.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," the cabbie replied, smiling kindly. Lisa smiled back at him, for real this time.

Jackson opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly, the door on his side opened, and he was pulled out roughly. Lisa gasped and started to lean over to see what had happened, and she was pulled out by a set of rough hands.

There were a circle of men standing around she and Jackson. They were surrounded.

As Lisa watched, the man who appeared to be the leader stepped out of the ring. For a long moment, he and Jackson stared at each other, then both faces broke into equal smiles, and they shook hands and patted each other on the back like friends. The leader glanced at Lisa.

"You got her," he said, shaking his head. "I can't believe you actually got her. And willingly, too!"

Jackson turned to smile at Lisa, who was rapidly beginning to realize what the other man was talking about. Her cheeks flushed an angry red.

"You lied to me?" she asked bitterly, her eyes flashing with hurt and rage. Jackson shrugged.

"What can I say, Leese?" he said, taking a step closer to her and leaning forward so his face was right in hers. "It's all about the job."


	4. To Buy The Truth and Sell A Lie

Sorry for taking so long to update! For some reason I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. No clue why, but I did! Hahaha.

Oh…My…God…you guys rock! I got so many reviews this chapter, I was practically going crazy with happiness! 19! That's more than I've ever gotten on a chapter before! Ahh! You guys are awesome :)

Please be awesome again? Please:)

**Andraya: **It always seemed like he would be a good actor…maybe because Cillian is such a good actor too :) Ewww, and yeah, they hid a camera in her bathroom. Gross, huh? Thanks for reviewing!

**Blushing Sigh: **Haha, Jackie…hmmm, I'm seeing a new nickname for Jackson, I think :) He's gonna hate Lisa for it! I'm so glad you love my story! That makes me incredibly happy! Thanks for the review!

**Bimefl: **Haha, oh no, he's not going to fall in love with her right away. It's going to take some time :) In my other fic…it's taken 43 chapters for the people to fall in love…but don't worry, it's not going to take that long here, hahaha. I have many mysteries up my sleeves. They'll all show up at one point! Thanks for reviewing!

**BregoBeauty: **You'll find out everything in time :) Personally, I'm not even one hundred percent sure what's going on. I'm kinda just winging it! Hahaha! Thanks for the review!

**Luv is a battlefield: **I don't know how he could either…what a jerk! But don't worry, all will be revealed soon :) Thanks for reviewing!

**Jesika: **Yessss, I surprised you! That was my aim :) Haha, Thanks for the review!

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**Riddick's Sita: **Hehehe, I made you beg. You'll see what happened in this chapter, I hope. Thanks for the review!

**Laurenmlbc: **I'm glad you like it! Haha ca't is a funny word. I like it! Thanks for reviewing!

**Babs08: **Hehehe, I like making people mad :) Okay…well not really, but it was still amusing reading the reactions to this chapter. Particularly yours :) Don't worry, though, everything will work out nicely in the end. I promise! …maybe. Thanks for the review!

**IpredictaRIOT: **Hehehe, if you liked the end of this chapter, I'm sure you'll looove this one! Thanks for the review!

**Amalee: **I am taking it….well…I don't exactly have the fine details worked out yet, but I have a general idea of where I'm going with all this. Kinda….you know what, just enjoy the ride :) Hehe, thanks for reviewing!

**Red hood ninja: **Hey! I love you too! Hahaha. I'm glad you liked it! And I'm glad you think the end was a shocker, because that's what I was going for, and hoped it came off that way, hahaha. YES! I'm original! SWEET! Hehe, glad you like how I characterize them too. That's my biggest fear is being off the mark with my characterization! Thanks for the review!

**ForbiddenScars: **Hehehe, I'm glad you love switcheroos, because there will be more I believe. I'm not quite sure by who yet…but there will be more! Thanks for reviewing!

**Tenshi-no-fushigi: **Oooh lala, yes he did! Haha, I love saying oo la la. Jackson in glasses in jeans…yeah, I so did that for people like you and me who love that thought :) Haha, thanks for the review!

**Breezi: **Knowing Jackson and Lisa…some ass-kicking will probably occur :) Thanks for the review!

**LadyJaye: **Hehe, you'll see why he lied soon enough :) Thanks for the review!

PHEW! That took a while! But it was fun :)

* * *

**Chapter 4: **To Buy the Truth and Sell a Lie

**To buy the truth  
And sell a lie  
**The last mistake before you die  
So don't forget to breathe tonight  
Tonight's the last so say good-bye

"You lied to me?" she asked bitterly, her eyes flashing with hurt and rage. Jackson shrugged.

"What can I say, Leese?" he said, taking a step closer to her and leaning forward so his face was right in hers. "It's all about the job."

* * *

Lisa turned away from Jackson bitterly; anger and fear welling in her heart. She considered screaming, but she knew it wouldn't do her any good. There was no one out so early, and the few people that were on the streets were all driving to work. No one would hear her, and she had a feeling it would just get her head-butted again.

"Bastard," she muttered angrily. Jackson smirked and turned to the other man, who was grinning as well.

"I'll admit," the other man said amiably. "I thought you were going to take her and get revenge yourself. But you came through with the signal."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"You don't think I'd do that, do you?" Jackson asked with a matching sugary smile, though Lisa detected a small amount of resentment behind it.

"What was I supposed to think?" the other man asked. "You come strolling out of her apartment; no one knew you were there…come on, Jackson, if that doesn't look suspicious…"

"I trust that you called my associate to find out why I was here," Jackson interrupted coldly.

"Naturally," the other man said, beginning to look uncomfortable. Though in there first few minutes of exchange it had seemed that the two were equals as far as their positions in the organization that they both worked for, it was becoming clear who was more important. Jackson was slowly reducing this man to nothing. If Lisa weren't completely infuriated, she would have been fascinated.

"When did you call him?"

"A few minutes ago," the other man said slowly. Suddenly, to Lisa's surprise, he seemed to grow a backbone. "Look, Jackson, we called him, all right? But this is my operation, and you're not supposed to be involved. After we're done with her, you can do whatever you want. Kill her, whatever. But for now, I need you to get out of here."

"You know I can't do that, Anthony," Jackson said calmly, completely unfazed by the other man's words. "You deal with the other girl, and I deal with Lisa. Fire Gremmont. He wouldn't be focused completely on the job."

He gave Anthony a knowing look, and the other man nodded begrudgingly.

"You know how pissed off Andropov would be if he found out that the guy who screwed up their last attempt at this was going at it again."

Lisa felt a stab of fear in the pit of her stomach. Were they going to try to kill Keefe again?

"Then there's no reason for Andropov to know!" Jackson exclaimed. "Anthony, you know you can't do this with anyone else. You know how I work, and you know what I do. Look what I just did, bringing her right to you willingly. You think Gremmont could have pulled that off?"

Anthony sighed. He looked as if he was being backed into a corner. Lisa guessed that he knew that he needed Jackson, but didn't want to admit it.

"No, Gremmont would have fucked it up," he said as if it pained him to do so. "I'll boot him as soon as we get back to the headquarters, all right?"

"Naturally," Jackson replied flippantly, as if he had been expecting Anthony to comply with his demands all along. "Now let's go. It's early, but you never know who might be walking around."

He turned to Lisa and tried to take her arm, but her chin rose into the air defiantly, and she snatched her arm back. He smirked at her for the second time and nodded to one of the burly men standing by him. The burly man grabbed Lisa roughly and tried to shove her into the car. Lisa responded by swiftly shoving the heel of her hand up to his nose.

The big man howled in pain, and Lisa smiled smugly at Jackson before stepping into the car with ladylike grace. The man, nose bleeding and eyes wide with anger, tried to grab her, but Jackson swiftly stuck his arm out and shook his head slowly.  
"Back off," he growled, enunciating his words clearly. The injured man glared at Jackson for a moment before shrinking away and moving to another parked car, where several of the other henchmen were waiting. He muttered darkly to himself and tended to his injury while shooting glares back at the cab. Jackson watched him until he decided that the man was no longer a threat, then got into the car beside Lisa, closing the door lightly behind him.

"That was good, Leese," he said, arching his eyebrows at her. "But you might want to be a little bit smarter about who you pick your fights with. That guy wasn't the one to hit."

"Maybe next time you can stop him from grabbing me, then," Lisa retorted. "Instead of setting him on me like a wild dog."

She turned to face the front, tossing her hair out of her eyes in a way that signified that the conversation was over. Though Jackson was usually the king of witty comebacks, he didn't say anything to that. He just smiled slightly before turning to face the front as well.

Shortly after, Anthony stepped into the taxi, straightening out his jacket and nodding to the driver. The taxi pulled away from the curb and turned the corner, driving past Lisa's apartment building. She gazed at in sadness until they had turned another corner, then lowered her gaze to her hands, which were folded in her lap. She caught Jackson glancing at her out of the corner of her eye several times, before she finally had enough and just turned to return his gaze.

"What?" she asked with venom. Anthony turned and looked back at the two of them, obviously enjoying their little interaction.

"Nothing," Jackson said, trying to sound innocent.

"Don't fuck with me, Jackson," Lisa retorted with contempt, looking at him like he was nothing but a bug she wanted to grind under the heel of her sneaker. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"I'm not," Jackson replied glibly, like a small child who has been caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing, but still thinks they can get out of it.

"Whatever," Lisa replied, rolling her eyes and turning to look out the window so she wouldn't have to deal with seeing him watching her.

"You know, you seem awfully calm for a woman who's just been kidnapped," Anthony said conversationally. Lisa turned a glance on him that indicated that she didn't think he was worth her time.

"This whole hostage thing is getting a little old," she explained in a tone that was mockingly sympathetic to his ignorance. "Three times in the past three years. It's starting to get predictable."

Bullshit, but it didn't matter. She knew that Jackson would be able to see through it, but she wasn't too sure Anthony would think she was anything less than confident, strong, and maybe even a little bored.

"Predictable?" Anthony laughed. He turned to Jackson. "You sure picked a fiery one, Jackson. No wonder you fucked it up last time."

Lisa couldn't help but suppress a smile as she saw Jackson tense with obvious annoyance. She turned to look out the window again, resting her cheek in her hand. For some reason, she wasn't afraid. She didn't know why, but she had a feeling that they weren't going to hurt her. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but then again, Lisa had never really been an optimist.

"So what's going on, anyway?" Lisa asked, her insatiable curiosity overshadowing her wish to keep up the uncaring façade she was wearing. Anthony turned back around to face her. Jackson just rolled his eyes, a small smile appearing on his lips despite himself. She asked so many questions, it was almost amusing.

"What, you haven't figured it out?" he asked with mocking surprise. He turned to look at Anthony. "She hasn't figured it out!"

Rather than getting angry as he had hoped she would, she just stared at him blankly.

"It's like…eight in the morning, Jackson. I haven't slept in what feels like a week. This morning, you killed my…rapist and showed up at my apartment, claiming that you were trying to protect me, only to lead me right into your trap. So now, I'm going with you to God knows where, with no hope of escape, in a fucking cab, with a bunch of retards who you probably don't trust farther than you can throw them. And you _expect _me to know what's going on?"

There was a short silence, in which Jackson and Anthony both stared at her emotionlessly. Then, the corner of Anthony's mouth twitched up into a smile despite himself. Then he started to laugh quietly. Jackson shot him a glare.

"She reminds me of you," Anthony decided, gesturing towards Lisa as if there was another 'she' in the car. For the first time, Lisa showed some emotion. She arched an eyebrow, unconsciously imitating Jackson.

"Be nice," Jackson said, tsking with a small smile. Lisa turned and looked at him, making a face.

"I can see you were right about him sucking at his job," she said sweetly. "Clearly if he makes that comparison, he can't be all that good at what he does."

"Yes, my job requires good people skills," Jackson said, ignoring Anthony's dark, almost offended, look. "And people skills is one thing that Anthony doesn't have."

Anthony arched an eyebrow at him. Lisa almost felt bad for poor Anthony, though he _had _kidnapped her, and had just compared her to Jackson.

"Last time I checked, chasing someone around their father's house with a knife wasn't exactly considered people skills," she remarked to Jackson. He just smirked at her.

"Well, that was a special circumstance," he explained. "I wasn't thinking clearly. And I already explained that to you."

"Wasn't sure if it was the truth or not," Lisa retorted, her earlier flippant tone taking on a biting edge. And Jackson felt its sting. He flinched visibly, and Lisa smiled smugly before turning to look out the window again.

* * *

Jackson was sick of Anthony glancing at Lisa back in the mirror. The woman had long since fallen asleep curled against the window, pressed back as far as she could possibly get from him, and Anthony was looking at her and smiling. He didn't see Jackson's clear blue eyes focused on him with a glare of death. If he had, maybe he would have thought twice about staring so openly.

Jackson turned to gaze out the window for a moment, tapping his fingers irritably on his leg as the plain, swampy landscape flew past his vision. He hated sitting still, and this car ride was taking longer than it needed to, thanks to the driver's incredibly slow-moving pace.

"Is there any way you could drive any faster?" he asked with some irritation. The driver glared at him in the rearview mirror, but increased his speed significantly.

"In a hurry to get somewhere, Jackson?" Anthony asked, finally peeling his eyes away from Lisa. That bastard.

"Yes," Jackson said plainly, turning and looking out the window again. "You and I both know that we don't have much time to plan this job, Meyers. I want to prepare, and I'm not going to get a whole lot of time to do that."

"This is the easiest job of your life, Rippner," Anthony replied, turning to face the front again after a quick glance at Lisa. "You just stick with your girl, get her to do what you want, and then it's all taken care of. You don't _need _to prepare."

"There's a reason why I'm the best," Jackson retorted. "It's not about necessity. It's about knowing the job inside and out. It's about knowing its possible failures and its weaknesses and the people involved."

"Did you use that method last time?" Anthony quipped with a smug grin, knowing that the Keefe failure would get him a little rattled. It did indeed rattle Jackson, but not for the reasons that Anthony thought it would.

He was rattled because thinking of the Keefe job invariably led to thinking about Lisa, and about how she had bested him. Twice, now, counting that little stint in her apartment with the field hockey stick. He was rattled because, in his mind, he was no longer the best. _She _was. And he had to get his title back.

Oh, he realized he was being ridiculous. After all, she was fighting for her life. She wasn't just doing it for money and glory like he was. No, she wasn't selfish. She beat him at his own game because that's what she _had _to do. But he still felt that little twinge of jealousy and territorial pride. _He _was the best at the job. How could she, little Lisa Reisart, beat him? It just didn't seem fair.

He sighed and leaned his head back against the headrest.

"Yes," he said in response to Anthony's question. "But there's a first time for everything, even failure." He gave the other man a pointed look, then leaned over and brushed Lisa's hair out of her face. Anthony gave him a small, knowing, smile and turned back around to face the front. Jackson watched him for a while to make sure that he didn't get any ideas about turning around and looking at Lisa. When he didn't show any sign of doing so, Jackson relaxed and turned his gaze out the window once again.

* * *

When Lisa next awoke, it was because the car came to a sudden stop, lurching her out of her precariously achieved comfortable sleeping position. Her eyes snapped open, all traces of sleep gone, and she turned to look at Jackson, already with malice in her gaze. He was looking out the window with a bored expression, his chin resting in his hand. As she watched, he yawned, though he tried to hide it, and cracked his neck lazily. Anthony turned around to say something to him, probably about the extremely loud popping noise that his neck had made, and noticed that Lisa was awake.

"Hey," he said to Jackson, gesturing with a head movement towards Lisa. "Sleeping Beauty's awake."

Lisa wasn't sure if it was just her imagination that made her think that she saw Jackson flinch at that comment. She scowled and glanced out the front window. They were parked in front of a large office building, which had a sign for some organization called 'Rourke Insurance Agency'. She turned and looked out the back. They were in a huge parking lot in what appeared to be an industrial park, which was completely deserted. The only other cars in the parking lot were the ones that Anthony's lackies had driven in.

"Where are we?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

"Your home for the next two weeks," Jackson replied before Anthony could open his mouth. "Our headquarters."

"Don't tell her that!" Anthony growled angrily. Jackson shot him an annoyed but vaguely amused glance.

"Because she's going to be able to tell anyone," Jackson said sarcastically. "By the time she's free, we'll be long gone."

"By the time she's free?" Anthony asked, arching an eyebrow. "What happened to exacting your revenge?"

"I never said I wanted it," Jackson replied, not risking a glance at Lisa. He kept his calm blue eyes focused on Anthony. The other man rolled his eyes, obviously under the impression that Jackson was either joking or just being melodramatic. Though he was certainly doing the latter, Lisa honestly couldn't remember him ever saying that he wanted revenge. So…maybe he didn't.

But if there was one thing that Lisa hated more than she hated Jackson Rippner at that moment, it was false hope. The kind of hope that isn't founded, but is just there to make a person feel better. Like when her grandmother died, and everyone was saying that she was going to be okay; not because she was showing any signs of being so, but to give her a little hope that maybe it _would _end up all right. So rather than telling herself that maybe Jackson didn't want to hurt her, she decided that expecting the worst was better, and she turned away from him to look out the window once again.

"We need to get her inside," Anthony said after a long moment of silence in which no one moved. "I need to call Andropov and tell him it's done."

"All right," Jackson said, opening his door and stepping out, characteristically straightening out his jacket before walking leisurely over to Lisa's door and opening it for her. She glared up at him, but rather than say something witty like she was expecting him too, he just extended a hand for her. She somewhat graciously took it, and he pulled her to her feet gently.

"Thanks," she said begrudgingly. Jackson shrugged and unsmilingly shut her door. She wasn't sure what was wrong with him, but his mood had changed from playfully rude to just plain somber in the span of a few minutes.

As she stood there contemplating what was wrong with him, someone grabbed her forcefully by the arm from behind and shoved her forward. She twisted her neck to see who it was as she stumbled and was brought back to a steady footing by her captor. It was the man whose nose she had injured earlier.

She started to swing her arm at his face for a second time, but he grabbed her hand with a devilish smile, and for the first time, Lisa was genuinely frightened.

"Let her go!" Jackson exclaimed angrily from where he was standing by the door. He had apparently only just noticed that Lisa was being harassed.

"Let him have her," Anthony said, waving his hand dismissively. "As long as you don't kill her, Ben."

The brute, Ben, chuckled quietly. Lisa promptly stepped on his foot. Though she was only wearing sneakers, she had employed a lot of force behind it, and Ben hissed in pain, shoving her away from him roughly.

"Bitch," he growled, menacingly stepping towards her. She backed away fearfully, but Anthony caught her from behind, sniffing her hair disgustingly and laughing. It was like some twisted nightmare, and surprisingly she found herself seeking out the familiar set of cold blue eyes. For some unknown reason, she thought he would be her salvation.

And, miraculously, she was right. After Anthony took her from Ben, who was still glaring at Lisa with unconcealed hatred, Jackson shoved his way through the gathering crowd of ten or so goons, and he strode up to Anthony with fire in his eyes. Without so much as a word, he grabbed Lisa's arm and pulled her away from the other man, snaking one arm around her waist and pulling her around to face him. He cradled her against his chest protectively, and though she was no longer afraid, she allowed herself to take small handfuls of his jacket in her hands, and she stood with her face against his chest, breathing heavily. She knew she needed his protection, and refusing it would only piss him off.

"I said let her go," Jackson growled, his second arm going around Lisa's shoulders and holding her almost gently. Lisa stiffened in his arms as his hand slid over her back in an attempt to soothe her.

"We were just having a little fun, Rippner," Anthony said, arching an eyebrow. "Lighten up."

"I don't want her touched," Jackson said tightly, glaring at Ben. "By anyone but me. Everyone understand that?"

After a few reluctant sighs and shuffled feet, everyone nodded. Jackson was disgusted that he actually had to _tell _them as a group to not touch her, and they were acting like he had told them they couldn't watch TV.

"I think you're forgetting who's in charge of the operation," Anthony said with a stony glare.

"I think _you're _forgetting who the favorite of the organization is," Jackson replied in the same tone. "And I also think you're forgetting that you said I could deal with Ms. Reisart. That means that I decide what happens to her. You got that?"

"Look, Jackson," Anthony said, growing more enraged by the minute. "I'm sick of you playing the favoritism card. You fucked up big time with the Keefe assignment, and now they got me doing the clean up for it."

"The clean up?" Jackson asked with a snort. "They don't have you doing a clean-up, Meyers. This is a completely reconstructed assignment. You're just working for the same people with the same target."

So they _were _going to try to kill Keefe. Lisa brought her forehead to rest against Jackson's chest wearily. How was she supposed to prevent it this time?

"Because of _your _fuck up!" Anthony exclaimed, growing more and more heated by the moment. "And now you got her fucking cowering against your chest like you're some kind of God. Well guess what, sweetie, he isn't a God. He isn't even a _man_. He can't finish the simplest job on the face of the planet. You know why? Because of _you_!"

"So now it's both of our faults?" Lisa managed to choke out, ashamed to find herself shaking with fear. Dammit, she wasn't supposed to be afraid. She was supposed to be calm, collected. She pulled out of Jackson's arms roughly, with a fair amount of reluctance, but still stayed close to his side. She knew that she wasn't safe with anyone there, but it would seem that she was safest with Jackson. "I'm sorry I wasn't about to sit back and watch a good man get killed."

"Hey, we don't make the choices, darling," Anthony spat. "We just do what our bosses tell us."

"Still doesn't mean I'm going to sit back and do nothing about it," Lisa retorted with just as much fire in her tone. "I'm not like you _or _Jackson, though you seem to think otherwise."

"Why the fuck am I even _talking _to you?" Anthony asked with frustration, turning back to Jackson. "Look, from now on, I'm your superior. You listen to what _I _say, and I assign you to whoever I assign you to."

"You're assigning me to Lisa," Jackson replied. "Unless you want the organization breathing down your back. Because they will, and they will be breathing _fire_."

He paused for effect, then nodded, taking Lisa by the arm and starting to walk forward into the building. Anthony looked like he wanted to say something, but he just made a face and walked in after Jackson and Lisa. Ben walked in soon afterwards, followed by several other goons. The rest headed off to park the cars in the parking garage.

Jackson, Lisa, Anthony, and Ben walked into the elevator. Jackson kept Lisa in the far right corner, and he stood directly next to her, making sure that no one had easy access. Though she was slightly annoyed at the somewhat hypocritical over-protectiveness, she was also largely grateful. She couldn't even begin to imagine the hell that she would be going through if Jackson hadn't been there.

Without knowing it, she shivered slightly, and Jackson's eyes flickered over to her to observe this new change in her body movements.

"Cold?" he asked her, his voice a startling contrast to the eerie silence that pervaded the small elevator car.

"No," Lisa lied, drawing her arms across her chest in an unconscious immediate contradiction of her earlier statement. Jackson smiled slightly but didn't press the matter; they'd get down to business soon enough, and then he would make sure to get her a blanket.

Ben got off on the third floor after a whispered conference with Anthony, which Lisa had failed to completely overhear. She had managed to get some information though. She learned that Ben was actually a security guard at the building, which prompted her to leave a mental note to never trust the security guys at the Lux again. She also learned that the office was being used regularly, but the workers had no idea about the truth. They just assumed that Anthony was their new owner. After Anthony got off at the fifth floor, muttering angrily about having to fire Gremmont, Jackson and Lisa were left in the elevator alone.

The doors slid shut slowly, almost in slow motion, and Lisa waited in anticipation for what she wanted to say next. As soon as they had closed behind Anthony, she turned to face Jackson with determination written on her gaze.

"I know you hate it when I ask questions," she said plainly. "But this one's important and I'd like it if you'd answer."

"All right," Jackson said with an amused grin. "Depends on what you want to know."

"I want to know what's going on," Lisa said with a stoic face. "I want to know if you're really planning on killing Keefe, and if so, why? And how are you planning on doing it this time?" She was going to keep going, but the amused look on Jackson's face stopped her.

"Yes, Andropov is planning on killing Keefe. He was the guy who hired me to do it last time, and he just can't let go. He really wants Keefe dead, Leese. It was either him or you. I had my associate persuade him and _his _associates that Keefe would be a much better target."

"Thanks," Lisa said sarcastically. Jackson grinned.

"And why? Well, I can't tell you that because I'm not really sure. But I'm telling you this Andropov guy really has some issues with your friend Keefe. I've only talked to him a few times on the phone, but he really has some obsession with having this man dead. I found it better to not ask questions."

The car stopped at the seventh floor, and the doors opened with a ding. Lisa and Jackson stepped out.

"What about the last question?" she asked as they walked down the hall, looking almost companionable.

"How?" Jackson asked. Lisa nodded. "Well, as far as I understand it, they're going to bait someone into getting Keefe's room set up with some kind of weapon by threatening a loved one." He grinned slightly, with a small amount of pride. "They took a few pages out of my book on that one."

"You're not going to threaten my father again, are you?" Lisa asked warily. Jackson laughed slightly and they walked past some cubicles, all of them empty.

"No, no, you're not the one doing the job this time."

Lisa faltered for a moment in her confusion, her brow furrowing as they turned right down a hallway of closed doors.

"Then why am I here?" she asked as Jackson stopped in front of one of the doors, taking a key out of his pocket. The sign on the door had the initials "J.R.".

"You're here as bait," Jackson replied, sticking the key in the door. "You're the loved one."

Lisa raised her eyebrow as he twisted the key in the lock.

"Who's the one doing the job?" she asked curiously. Jackson smirked and pulled the key out and wrapped his slender fingers around the doorknob.

"Cynthia," he replied, and he threw open the door.


	5. Don't Be Afraid

Here we are! Another update! This one took a long time too, I know. Writing two stories at the same time sucks.

Thanks to my awesome reviewers! You know the drill! Review again and I will love you forever!

**BregoBeauty: **Hehe, Jackson keeps switching back and forth from protective to damn evil every other chapter! It makes me laugh! Thanks for reviewing!

**Jesika: **The Cynthia choice made me laugh too! That's why I wrote it:) It's basically to prove what an utter dipshit Anthony is, though I do love the guy a little. Thanks for the review!

**Andraya: **Yes, they are going to threaten Cynthia, though Lisa is the one in real danger! Uh ohhh. Jackson's a tough cookie to understand. One minute he's all protective and nice, and the next he's all cold and flipping outish. I also agree that Lisa is very brave! I'd probably just be sitting there crying! Haha! Thanks for the review!

**Ghostsheep: **I'm glad you loved it! Thanks for reviewing!

**Riddick's Sita: **Thanks! I'm glad you think I rock :) Hehe, and oh, what's that about cliffies? There's not one at the end of this chapter. I promise…:) Thanks for reviewing!

**Red hood ninja: **Yeah, there really weren't a whole lot of people in the movie, haha. So Cynthia was definitely the most logical choice for me there. This chapter's long too! I hope you like it! Hehe! Lisa attacking Ben was fun to write. He'll be back later! I hope you like this chapter too! (Oh, and the waffles were fabulous, darling!) Thanks for the review!

**Blushing Sigh: **Jackson's reasoning for killing Peter Johnson will come out later on in the story. Haha, Jackie is very mean indeed. I used that nickname in here :) The Lisa/Jackson bit was for people like me who are impatient and want to see some action already. That was sort of a tease :) hehehe. Thanks for reviewing!

**Hidden-rose15: **I kinda like Anthony too. He started out as being a total jackass, but then he kinda got nicer, though he's still really mean. I'm hoping to give him some depth, because I don't want a totally 1 dimensional character. Jackson saving Lisa was pretty sweet, hehee. Thanks for the review!

**Be11011: **I'm glad you liked it! And thanks for reviewing! Every new review I get makes me smile :) A lot!

**Bimefl: **Chya a new chapter! And here's another one! Sweet! Hehe, glad you liked it and thanks for reviewing!

**Tenshi-no-fushigi: **Jackson's protectiveness will only grow, especially with a few characters who start showing unhealthy interests in Lisa! Hehe, that should be fun to write! Jackson and jeans and glasses…oh God, that's just…sooooo good to picture :) Thanks for reviewing! And remember, he's still wearing those jeans!

**Mini Nicka: **Thanks! I'm really glad you like it! Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter 5: **Don't Be Afraid

With the lights out it's a little less dangerous  
Even with a stranger never gets painless  
**Don't be afraid.**  
Every time I think I'm gonna change it.  
It's driving me insane.

"Who's the one doing the job?" she asked curiously. Jackson smirked and pulled the key out and wrapped his slender fingers around the doorknob.

"Cynthia," he replied, and he threw open the door.

* * *

Lisa stared at Jackson as he ushered her into the room quickly with a glance over his shoulder. Though she had been expecting to see a well-furnished office, probably impeccably neat, with maybe a chair or two in front of the shining oak desk, she was surprised to see that it was a bedroom. Not only was it larger than it seemed from the outside, but it was also very well decorated, with paintings and photographs on the walls and beautiful drapes over the one window in the room. She would have bet anything it was Jackson's touch.

As Jackson closed the door behind them and turned on the light, bathing the room in a deceptively friendly glow, Lisa was taken out of her reverent inspection and turned to face Jackson with her hands on her hips.

"Cynthia?" she asked with an eyebrow arched in question. Despite the situation, she oddly felt like laughing.

"Yes, Cynthia," Jackson replied, looking far less than happy with the idea.

"You have to be kidding me," Lisa said with exasperation, rolling her eyes Heavenward. "Who's idea was it? _Please _tell me it wasn't yours."

"No!" Jackson exclaimed quickly. "It was _not_ my idea. It was Anthony. He said that she'd be perfect because she's quiet and not argumentative." He gave Lisa a pointed look. "Not like some people I know."

"She's also more likely to screw things up while honestly trying her best," Lisa pointed out, ignoring his comment.

"That's what I said," Jackson replied grumpily, shrugging. "But Anthony didn't want to listen. He thinks that because of my one failure, he's taken on the title of best."

"Yeah, well sounds like _I _could do a better job at it than him," Lisa replied, snorting. She turned and took in the sight of the room, deciding that if she had to spend the time _somewhere_, she was glad it was at least good-looking. "How long am I going to be here?"

"Not long," Jackson replied, shrugging as he walked over to a table in the corner of the room, which had a coffee maker going. "But don't get any ideas. You try to get out of here, I get reassigned or killed, and you're stuck with Gremmont."

"Who's he?" Lisa asked, already knowing that she wasn't going to like the answer. Jackson turned and looked at her and made a face.

"Not the nicest person in the world, I'll tell you that," he said casually. He poured the coffee into two mugs. "I think you'd find my company much more pleasurable."

Lisa sighed heavily and watched as he put three creams and three sugars in her coffee. For once, it was beneficial to have a stalker. She took the mug that he offered gratefully, noticing that it was really cold in the room.

"What's with the air conditioning?" she asked, looking around. She half expected to see icicles forming.

"Anthony," Jackson replied simply. It was clear that Jackson's feelings for the other man weren't good ones. "He's got the cold tolerance of a polar bear." Lisa forced a smile and rested the warm cup against her cheek.

"Why did this Andropov guy hire him anyway?" she asked conversationally. Jackson shrugged.

"He was miffed at me and wanted to hire someone who he knew would absolutely piss me off while getting the job done." He sighed and lowered his voice to a more confidential level. "Personally, I think he's an idiot, too."

"It seems that anyone who doesn't agree with you is," Lisa retorted with a small smile. Jackson shook his head seriously.

"Not everyone. For example, though you do piss me off at times, I don't think you're a _total _idiot."

"Thanks," Lisa said sarcastically.

"No problem," Jackson replied. He gestured to a reclining chair that looked extremely comfortable. "Have a seat."

He walked around the room, fixing little things as she made herself comfortable.

"So what is this place?" she asked, taking a sip of the coffee and smiling despite herself. She had to admit he made good coffee.

"Miami headquarters," Jackson replied. "The organization has owned this company for years, but no one knows about it. Even most of the workers have no idea about what really goes on here. As you can see, we like to keep most things secretive."

"I couldn't tell," Lisa replied sarcastically.

"I haven't been here in a while…but it appears that nothing has changed."

"What do you mean, you haven't been here in a while?" Lisa asked. "Weren't you just here?"

Jackson shook his head as he took a sip of his coffee, waiting until he had completely swallowed it before he spoke.

"No, no," he explained. "I haven't been here since before our little flight." He grinned at her slightly. "We have similar offices set up around the country, though I find myself staying at this one most often."

"Why bother?" Lisa asked, crossing her legs and leaning back in the chair uncomfortably. "What do you use it for?"

Jackson shrugged and looked around the room with an almost fond expression.

"When we're gathered here for long stretches of time, waiting for our next assignment. It's a place to call home." He paused. "Kind of."

Lisa smiled and even laughed a bit, though she made sure she didn't give him the pleasure of actually looking like she was amused. She couldn't help but be reminded of the man she referred to as 'airport Jackson'; the kind and warm man who guessed her drink spot on.

"Could you tell me what's going on, or is that classified as secretive?"

"I've already told you what's going on," Jackson replied with surprisingly little annoyance, the warm smile replaced with a businesslike façade.

"What are you going to have Cynthia do?" Lisa asked with surprising calm. Jackson, watching her, found it slightly unsettling and very frustrating that he was not able to determine whether she was really that calm, or if it was all just an act. Oh, he could assume that it was all acting, and would probably guess correctly, but it was still an odd sensation; not being able to automatically tell.

"Basically the same thing you did," Jackson replied, shrugging. "Only we're going to have her slip a few of Anthony's men some door keys, I believe. They're going to break in, kill Keefe and anyone else in the room, and get out."

He sounded slightly bitter. His tone and the absolute idiocy of the plan were enough to give Lisa substantial evidence to conclude that the idea was not Jackson's.

"This Andropov guy sounds like an idiot for hiring your friend there," she said, sighing and shaking her head. "And why are you on this job?"

"I've taken a personal interest in the matter," Jackson replied, taking another casual sip of his coffee.

"You think that if you finish it, you'll be able to move on?" Lisa asked. "You have to finish every job?"

"You could say that," Jackson replied, shrugging. "I suppose."

He glanced at his watch and sighed.

"Got somewhere to be, Jackie?" Lisa asked, trying to quell her fear by taking another sip to calm her nerves.

"When we were in the car, when you were sleeping, Anthony said he would come up here after firing Gremmont to fill the both of us in on the details of the job."

"What, even you don't know the details?" Lisa asked with surprise.

"Not the whole thing," Jackson replied. "My job is pretty simple. I am, essentially, babysitting you. But I want to know the whole job. I want to know what's going on with everyone. That's just how I work."

Lisa nodded begrudgingly. She used the same methods at the hotel. Even if she wasn't personally overseeing a customer, she liked to know everything about them that she could.

"I understand," she informed him. "That's how I work too."

Jackson grinned and was about to say something when a knock sounded at the door. Jackson walked over to the door, setting his coffee mug on the table and unlocking the complicated series of locks that decorated the backside of the door. Lisa had a feeling that Jackson had put in most of them.

When he finally got the door open, Anthony stood there, looking slightly disheveled. Jackson moved aside to let the other man in, wordlessly. Anthony looked around the room with a small smile on his face as if he and the room shared some private joke that no one else would understand. He turned to face Jackson.

"You really went nuts with this one, huh, Jack?" he said, chuckling slightly under his breath. "You painted the walls?"

"Yes," Jackson replied simply. Lisa smiled to herself slightly. It seemed so…Jackson to actually care about something like the interior design of a room when he was busy planning the assassination of a very important public official. He had painted his walls. Green. A very nice shade of light green that Lisa was sure she would have picked for herself. The thought disturbed her.

Anthony seemed to sense that Jackson wasn't in the mood for idle chatter, and he gave the room one more once-over before turning to face Jackson completely.

"Gremmont's gone," he said, heaving a sigh. "But he didn't go gracefully." Lisa and Jackson both similarly noted Anthony's ruffled appearance, and both of them smiled at the thought that maybe the other man had roughed him up a bit. Jackson personally liked to imagine Anthony being smashed into a wall. He would have been surprised to know that Lisa's mind held the same image at the moment.

"Did you really expect him to go without a fight?" Jackson asked, his tone suggesting that he thought Anthony was an idiot for thinking it.

"No," Anthony replied casually, apparently trying to play Jackson at his game. He looked around the room, and both Lisa and Jackson noticed how his eyes lingered on her. She crossed her legs and Jackson smiled approvingly to himself.

"Is everything set with Andropov?" he asked almost cheerily.

"He's not pleased that we're letting her live, but he says that as long as we kill Keefe, he has no problems." Anthony looked at Lisa again. Jackson was finding it very annoying.

"What about Cynthia?" Jackson asked, making a face. "Does he approve of your choice?"

"Yes," Anthony said coldly, shooting Jackson a venomous glare, to which Jackson responded with a smile. "_He _has no problems with my choice. He thinks she will perform the task quite adequately."

"Well, let's hope he's right," Jackson replied with a smile that Lisa would have found eerie if she wasn't rooting for him in this battle. "Anything else?"

"Johnson's in place, Bailey's getting ready to move in, and Harrison is heading over here to help you out."

"Help me out?" Jackson said with no small amount of annoyance.

"To run errands," Anthony explained. "You're going to need clothes for her, you know. Maybe. You'll definitely need food. And you can't leave her alone for a moment in this room, so if you want to sleep, he'll take over the watch."

Jackson nodded, though he didn't look especially thrilled at the prospect. He sighed heavily, then finally nodded, giving his consent, though Anthony didn't appear to be giving him any choice.

"When are we doing this?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Tomorrow morning we tell our agent to release the information that Lisa Reisart has been kidnapped. Around eight o'clock, when Cynthia goes to work, I'll head over and check in at the Lux. Around ten, I'll ask her to come up to the room, claiming a maintenance problem. Then I'll explain the situation to her, complete with a phone call to Ms. Reisart, and we'll proceed from there. Every hour or so I'll call to check up, and I'll let Cynthia talk to Lisa every three hours, to assure her that Lisa is still alive. Does that sound good, Jackson?" This last sentence held a bit of bitterness, and Lisa found herself smiling despite herself.

"As good as it's going to get considering the circumstances," Jackson replied, sounding like he didn't mean a word. "Anything else?"

"No," Anthony said, shifting uncomfortably. "That's it."

"You should go prepare," Jackson said coldly. Anthony looked like he was about to say something, but in the end just sighed heavily, looking angry and defeated, and turned and walked out the door.

Lisa waited until the door had closed quietly behind Anthony before turning to Jackson, her eyes burning.

"You're not going to hurt her, are you?" she asked. Jackson sighed.

"No, Lisa," he replied. "Unlike last time, the only person who is in any risk of being hurt this time is you."

"That's comforting," Lisa said, arching an eyebrow. Jackson snorted.

"I thought you'd say that," he said, chuckling slightly. He turned and glanced at the clock. "You hungry?"

"Famished," Lisa said hopefully, her stomach growling in response. Jackson laughed and moved over to the table again, bending down to take something out of the mini fridge that Lisa hadn't noticed before.

"Lasagna sound good?" he asked, retrieving a take-out container. Lisa nodded eagerly.

"I love lasagna," she admitted. Jackson grinned at her, closing the fridge and crossing the room to her, handing her the container and a fork.

"I know," he remarked. Lisa smiled.

* * *

A few minutes there was a knock at the door, and a man walked in. He looked a little younger than Jackson's and had brown hair that was down to his ears and straight. His eyes were large and child-like and very blue. He reminded Lisa of her younger cousin, Tony.

"Harrison," Jackson said coldly, moving aside to let the other man in. Harrison nodded and stared at Lisa with that doe-eyed stare, looking slightly sad.

"This her?" he asked. Jackson rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Harrison," he said as if he were talking to a child. "This is Lisa Reisart. The biggest rule with her is look, but don't touch."

"Unless it's him," Lisa recited, rolling her eyes. Harrison smirked at Jackson.

"I like her already," he said. Jackson fixed him with a glare that wiped the grin right off his face. "Right. So anyway, what's the deal here?"

"What?" Jackson asked blankly, arching an eyebrow.

"What do I do?" Harrison asked in the same voice that implied ignorance.

"He didn't tell you?" Jackson asked, not sounding surprised at all. Harrison shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

"Not a word. He just said he needed me here today."

"Shocking," Jackson said, rolling his eyes. Harrison grinned slightly.

"I agree," he said. Jackson smiled a little too. Lisa sighed.

"As cute as this whole slightly gay moment is, could we please get back to business? In case you've forgotten, I'm not exactly thrilled to be here, and I want to get out as fast as I can."

"There's nothing I can do to speed up this operation, Leese," Jackson said, sighing to indicate that it made him extremely unhappy as well to not be able to do things a little faster. "All we can do is wait. I'm essentially a babysitter in this operation, you understand. Not my favorite job when it comes to my career."

"You did it last time, didn't you?" she asked. Jackson sighed.

"Yes, but that time the operation depended on my competence. I like the pressure, the anxiety. Babysitting you in this room without any possible way of escape is just…boring."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking around the tasteful room as if it disgusted him.

"I'm terribly sorry," Lisa said sarcastically. "How about we both go home?"

Jackson smiled at her sarcastically.

"Great idea, Leese," he said. "Then we can both be hunted down and systematically slaughtered. Trust me. As horridly painful as all of this is for the both of us, we're a lot better off than we could be."

Lisa sighed and continued to eat her lasagna. Harrison took a seat on the chair facing hers. Jackson stood next to Lisa's chair.

"So what's going on?" Harrison asked again. Jackson pushed his hair out of his eyes, though it once again fell right into his face.

"Anthony is going to get Lisa's friend and co-worker, Cynthia, to get our men room keys to Keefe's room at the Lux," he explained, rolling his eyes. "After which they're going to storm in, kill everyone, and break out."

Harrison looked at him with very little amusement written on his face.

"You're kidding, right?" he asked, making a face. Jackson shook his head.

"Unfortunately, I'm not. Though certainly they'll probably manage to kill Keefe, they run a high risk of being caught."

"Meaning we may have to evacuate," Harrison said with a sigh. "Lovely."

"Yes," Jackson said with a heavy sigh. "My thoughts exactly."

Both men sighed in a way that was so identical that Lisa couldn't help but chuckle to herself. They both stared at her. She rolled her eyes.

"Do you have an estimate as to how long I'm going to be here?" she asked Jackson.

"Well, they're going to talk to Cynthia tomorrow," Jackson said thoughtfully. "Keefe arrives the day after that…I believe Anthony wants to do it that night, so maybe a day after that, if everything goes according to plan."

"Meaning I'll probably be here longer?" Lisa asked knowingly. Jackson nodded.

"Much longer," he agreed. Harrison nodded as well, staring off into space with a disappointed expression on his face.

"Perfect," Lisa muttered, slumping back in the chair. She closed her eyes and put a hand to her forehead.

"I have a quick question," Harrison said, as if he had just thought of something.

"Shoot," Jackson said, folding his arms across his chest.

"Why'd he go back?" Harrison asked. On Jackson's questioning glance, he elaborated further. "The Lux. Why'd Keefe go back after last time?"

"People are stupid, Harrison," Jackson answered, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile. "Who can explain why they do what they do? I know I can't."

Harrison nodded, but he still looked mildly confused.

"It just makes no sense," he decided. "How could he be that stupid?"

"Don't ask me," Jackson said, shrugging. "I'm not really personally experienced with ignorance."

Jackson and Harrison both chuckled, while Lisa just rolled her eyes and slid down further into her seat.

* * *

It had to be at least four hours mater when Lisa finally decided that she'd had enough of the buddy-buddyness that was forming between her two captors, and she told Jackson that she was going to sleep. She pulled back the sheets on the king-sized bed and allowed herself to sink into their warmth and comfort, grateful and Jackson had insisted that she wear comfortable clothes and not her usual wardrobe.

She snuggled deeper and deeper into the billowy, cloud-like comfort of the fluffy pillows and the large green comforter. Jackson and Harrison's talking seemed to dim, and it was almost lulling her as she allowed her eyes to slide closed. She knew that she should probably be a little more wary about sleeping around Jackson and Harrison, but somehow she didn't care. Or maybe she just knew that they wouldn't do anything to her. Either that or she was just so tired that it really didn't matter anymore. Whatever it was, she was asleep within minutes.

* * *

_"Jackson?" _

_Lisa stood alone in the long hallway of cubicles. The empty click-click of her high heels echoed off the stark white walls and the unnaturally high ceiling as she walked onwards, peering into each room she passed. _

_"There you are, Lisa."_

_Lisa turned around to find that Anthony stood a little ways down the hall, smiling charmingly at her. _

_"Where's Jackson?" she asked, unconsciously shrinking away from him. _

_"He's a little…busy," Anthony replied, smirking slightly. Lisa's eyes widened as the impact of his meaning hit her, and she turned and fled down the hall. She heard him yelling at her to stop, but she wasn't about to listen. She knew what was coming. She knew he wasn't going to just let her go._

_As she ran down the surreally white hallway of large doors, she spotted the one marked "J.R." Sighing with relief, she bolted to it, turning the knob and throwing it open in one grand motion._

_But as she entered the room, it was clear that all was not well. Jackson was lying on the bed, eyes wide open and unmoving, as blood pooled all around him and in the five holes in his chest. _

_She opened her mouth to scream, but before she could even make a sound, Anthony had grabbed her around the throat and was dragging her out of the room, leaving Jackson behind. _

_"Lisa," Anthony said, touching her hand gently. "Lisa…"

* * *

_

Lisa awoke with a start, her eyes flying open. It was dark, and the only light came from a small desk lamp across the room. Someone was stroking her hair, and for a moment she thought she was in the hospital, and it was her mother, or something like that. But then she realized that it was Jackson, and he still thought she was dreaming.

"Wake up," he was saying gently. "Come on…"

She sat up quickly, pushing his hands off of her with venom that surprised her. Though only a few hours before she had welcomed his embrace, now she rejected it, feeling sick as he touched her.

"What?" she snapped at him, drawing her arms across her chest. He straightened up in the dark. She couldn't see the expression on his face, but a few moments later he snapped on the lamp beside the bed, and she could see that he looked like he had just been sleeping himself.

"You were having a nightmare," he said matter-of-factly. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair, which was a task that proved to be more difficult than expected considering that her hair hadn't been brushed since she took a shower earlier that morning, and she had just been tossing and turning in her sleep.

"Oh," she said, dropping her hands limply to her lap and looking around the dimly illuminated room. "Where's Harrison?"

"I let him go for the night," Jackson replied.

"What time is it?" Lisa asked, surprised.

"Almost ten," Jackson replied, moving across the room to the desk and sitting down in the big recliner chair. "What were you dreaming about anyway? You were screaming enough to wake up the while building."

"Was I?" Lisa asked abashedly. "Did anyone hear?"

"Well, so far no one's come to see what the hell's the matter…but I wouldn't worry about it. They don't question what they hear."

Though it sounded as if that was meant to give Lisa comfort, it just made her feel even sicker than she had before.

"Great," she muttered, turning to look at the window. It was pitch black outside. She wondered dimly if her father knew she was gone. Certainly he would have called her apartment after he found out she wasn't at work to see if she was all right. And when she didn't answer, it was likely that he would head over to check up on her…

Ironically, at that moment the sound of a cell phone ringing cut through the silence. It only took a moment for her to realize that it was hers. Jackson made no move to get her purse, which was sitting on the desk, so Lisa pushed the covers aside and got to her feet, moving across the room towards it.

"You're not planning on answering that, are you?" Jackson asked with some amusement.

"It's probably my father," Lisa said shortly. "And he's probably worried about me."

"With, need I remind you, very good reason. Now please go back to bed. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Lisa remained standing in the middle of the floor for a long moment, listening to the phone ring. Finally, Jackson picked it up, and turned it off. The silence that followed the loud, obnoxious jingle was deafening, and Lisa turned around in defeat, her shoulders slumped as she walked slowly back to the big bed.

Jackson watched her go, the phone still held in his hand. He quietly turned it back on. The screen flashed that she had missed one call. He retrieved the number, inexplicable sadness filling him as he stared at the name that popped up: "Daddy".

Perhaps it was the childish use of the word 'daddy' that did him in. Perhaps it was the fact that while Lisa had been sleeping, he had been left in silence to reflect on his own childhood, and the fact that he had never really had anyone to call 'daddy'. Oh, there was 'father', who he more often referred to as 'sir', but there wasn't a 'daddy'. Daddy sounded warm and inviting; the kind of person you would want to save from a psycho with a K-bar. Father and sir sounded like the kind of person you would shoot in the head out of self defense by the age of twelve.

Self defense…right.

* * *

_When he came in from school that day, he could sense that something was wrong. The music wasn't playing in the kitchen like it always was when he came home. It wasn't spouting cheery tunes that gave the household a falsely merry air, or classical, uplifting pieces. His mother wasn't dancing and swaying to the music as she cleaned the dishes or chopped up the vegetables for supper. When the door opened, she didn't turn to greet him with a fake, sunny smile and ask him if he had a good day at school. He didn't have to lie and say that school was awesome, just like the day before and the day before that and every day since he started going to that miserable hellhole. _

_He stopped in the doorway, frowning as the silence fell heavily on his little ears. He turned around to look and see if the bus had already left. It had, so he sighed and turned back to the seemingly empty house. _

_"Mom?" he called out tentatively, dropping his bag by the front door where he always left it and walking slowly into the kitchen. "Mom?" _

_Though he called louder this time, there was still no answer. He sighed and started to walk around the center island to get some cookies. His mother always kept a full jar; she made at least a batch a day for Jackson, selling the rest of the cookies she made to various people all over town who claimed that they would kill for just one crumb._

_It was because of this popular saying that when Jackson saw the bloody mess that was his mother's face staring up at him from the floor behind the counter, he thought it was one of those cookie hounds that did it._

_The first thing he did was yell in surprise and absolute horror, flinging himself back from her body, tripping on his own shoe and falling on his ass quite ungracefully as his sneakered feet pushed him away from the pool of blood that was spreading dangerously close. _

_"Jack…" _

_She was still alive. Her choked and tortured voice indicated that she wasn't going to last much longer if she didn't get help. Jackson leapt to his feet and grabbed the phone off the kitchen table, his breath coming in short pants as he dialed 9-1-1 with shaking fingers. _

_Before anyone had even picked up the phone on the other line, he heard the front door slam. In his surprise, he dropped the phone, listening to it clatter emptily on the cold tile floor. The thudding footsteps stopped, and for a moment Jackson thought that maybe, just maybe, he had dropped off the face of the planet, just as Jackson had wished on every birthday candle, star, and wishbone for the past ten years. But, as Jackson listened, the footsteps started again, this time more wary._

_Jackson looked at the phone, biting his lip. Maybe he could grab the phone and run out the back door. Then he could call the police and it would all be over. He and his mother could find a place away from the man who she claimed was his father (he was going to deny that no matter what she told him.) _

_But his thinking came too soon. His father rounded the corner just at that moment, and saw his son standing in the kitchen with fear written on his face._

_"What the fuck you doing home?" the older man asked, sneering at his son as if he were some insect that he kept trying and failing to remove from the house. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?"_

_"School's over for today," Jackson replied in his weak, tremulous voice. Years of abuse had weakened him until he was sensitive to nearly everything, and fearful of that and more. _

_"Yeah?" the older man said, looking surprised. "Oh…well then go do your homework or something. I'm busy."_

_Jackson took a good look at his father. The man appeared to be drunk, though when Jackson looked at him, he never really registered what state the man was in regarding sobriety. He knew that it didn't matter; the man was just as mean without alcohol in his blood than he was with it. _

_"Mom's hurt," Jackson said, quieter than before, lowering his eyes to the ground. His father's eyes flickered over to where Jackson could just see his mother's outstretched hand splayed limply across the blue tiles, which were now rapidly transforming into red. _

_"Ain't that a damn shame?" the older man asked without interest. "Bitch ain't dead yet?"_

_At those four words, Jackson felt something in himself that he had never expected to feel. He had always been a sympathetic child, finding something to care about even in the most evil of people. In his father, he found that the man told amazing stories. When he cared enough to tell them, he would set Jackson on his knee and make up grand fabrications about pirates and damsels and ferocious warriors. During these times, Jackson's mother would stand leaning in the doorway, a dishrag in her hands and a small smile on her face. Jackson loved those moments, and could never fully hate his father because of them. _

_But at that moment, hearing those horrible words coming out of his father's mouth, he felt a hate start to form in him. A hate that was so intense, it literally took his breath away as he stood there. It was then that he noticed the gun in his father's hand. _

_"You…you did it?" he asked in a small voice, trying to gather enough courage to sound angry. His father took a step towards his mother, looking around the counter._

_"Yeah," he said, without any remorse present. "I did it. It's about time I got this shit done."_

_Suddenly, before Jackson could even move, he raised the gun and fired. Jackson screamed this time, not bothering to contain his horror to a manly yell. His mother didn't even make a sound, but he knew that she was dead. The blood splattering into his line of sight from behind the counter was testament to that. _

_Not knowing what else to do, Jackson ran.

* * *

_

The next time Lisa awoke, it was because she smelled coffee brewing. She allowed her eyes to open and saw out the window that it was light out. Sighing, she sat up and turned to face Jackson, who was looking fresh and well rested despite the fact that he probably hadn't gotten much sleep the night before.

"Morning, Leese," he said without turning around from where he was pouring sugar into a cup. "I see you're finally awake."

"Yeah," she muttered unhappily, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and managing to stand up, though a wave of dizziness washed over her. She put a hand to her head, wincing. "Barely."

Jackson smirked and carried a coffee over to her. She thanked him begrudgingly and moved over to sit in the recliner that she had already mentally claimed as her own. Jackson sat down on the chair that he had occupied the night before.

"Our agent has released the information of your kidnapping," he informed her as if it were no big deal. "Your father has set up a reward and a search party."

"What time is it?" Lisa asked, frowning.

"Nearly ten," Jackson replied. "I'm expecting Anthony's call any minute now."

"Then what?" Lisa asked, looking nervous.

"Then you talk to Cynthia, reassure her that you're all right, and tell her to go ahead and do her job, or you get killed."

"Great," Lisa muttered, sighing. Suddenly, Jackson's cell phone rang from within his pocket. He glanced at her and answered it.

"Hello?" he said primly. He glanced at her again and nodded to alert her that it was Anthony. "Yeah, she's right here. Okay. Here she is."

He held the phone out for her, giving her a warning look. She sighed and reached out a trembling hand, wrapping her fingers around the phone and pulling it to her slowly.

"H…hello?" she asked in a tremulous voice, hot tears already gathering to her eyes as she waited for Cynthia's voice.

"Lisa?" Cynthia cried, also sounding tearful. "Oh my God, Lisa. I told you to shoot him!"

Lisa glared at Jackson.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I should have listened to you."

Jackson frowned slightly, knowing immediately what they were talking about.

"Are you okay?" Cynthia asked hysterically. "Did they hurt you? Oh my God, Lisa…your dad is so worried."

"I'm okay," Lisa said quietly. "For now. Did that dipshit Anthony tell you what to do?"

"Yeah," Cynthia said, sounding crestfallen. "I really don't want to, Lisa…but you're worth more to me than Keefe is anyway, so…"

"No, Cynthia," Lisa said, suddenly feeling lightheaded.

"What?" Cynthia said incredulously.

"I don't want you to do it," Lisa said, her eyes fixed on Jackson's. A look of anger came over his face, but she knew she wasn't imagining the respect that crossed his handsome features. "Don't let them kill Keefe."

"What about you?" Cynthia asked, fully sobbing now.

"Don't worry about me," Lisa said with false bravery, and she slowly closed the phone.


	6. Until You Fight, Until You Fall

Phew, hereee it is! Finally! I've gotten a little ahead of myself now, so I'm officially 2 whole pages into the next chapter! YES! Hahaha…anyway…

One little note here…the character of Harrison, I always picture as Nick Stahl, Terminator 3ish.

Please review again! And thank you soooo much to everyone who _did _review! You people rock!

**Trentaholic: **I'm so glad you adore me! Seriously! And I adore you for giving me such a long and happy review :) I had such a bad day the day you wrote that, and I got home and was all like 'ughhh, depression' and I turned on my computer and read your review and got so happy! So thank you soooo much!  
I'm also extremely happy that you think I'm in character! That's my biggest challenge, I think, because Jackson and Lisa are both so complex and so defined that it's hard to take liberties with them! The pace is also hard too, cus I just want them to start banging each other every three chapters…but unfortunately I have to wait. Damn the luck! But…I am the master of slow pacing. My Lost story is testament to that :)  
Ahhh, I haven't seen 30 seconds to Mars yet :( But I loooooove them so much. It spawned from an obsession with Panic Room, when I looked up Jared Leto after I thought he was incredibly good. Not only did I find that he was extremely sexy under all that nasty chin hair, but he also had a band! Not only a band…a GREAT band!  
And trust me, you don't have to tie me down to watch Red Eye again! Just toss me a copy of that DVD and I'll watch away :)  
Thanks for reviewing!

**CRae: **Yay! You like it too! Yes! I'm so happy you like my characterization :) I pay so much attention to that, lol. I'm so scared to screw it up. Glad you like Lisa too! She's gonna get even better as the story progresses, trust me :). Yes! Favorites! Eeee I looove you! Haha, thanks for reviewing!

**Lovinallenman: **I'm glad you love it! And I'm glad you liked the long chapter too, hahaha. Thanks for the review!

**Jesika: **Thanks! I hope you like this one too:) Thanks for reviewing!

**Tenshi-no-fushigi: **I kinda like Harrison too :) I picture him as Jared Leto! Wee wweee! And Jackson didn't try to stop Lisa because he kind of respected her decision and really, there wasn't anything he could do. Besides, any hitch in the plan, you know he's going to love because he really wants Anthony to fail, hahaha. Thanks for reviewing!

**Andraya TheLat: **I feel bad for Jackson :( I was going to have his mother be horrible and mean too, but then I figured this would be more scarring and gruesome, to make Jackson as messed up as he is! And I so agree about Lisa! I want to be like her too! Hahaha. And Jackson being a bad boy…ohhhh yes ;) Thanks for the review!

**Be11011: **Thanks! I'm glad you liked it! Thanks for reviewing!

**Dave-The-Laugh's-NewHotness: **Hehehe, I like evil cliffies! They're the best way to end a chapter! I'm glad you liked it, and thanks for the review!

**Seghen: **Nah, Jackson won't kill her. Then there wouldn't be a story :) Hehe. Thanks for reviewing!

**BregoBeauty: **Oh yeah, Anthony's an idiot, ahhaha. His plan is totally dumb, I believe. I liked writing Jackson being concerned during the nightmare because it was all fluffy, and I love fluffy! Oooo, you just gave me an idea for an Invasion story! I love you! Hahaha! Thanks for reviewing and the idea!

**Blushing Sigh: **I wanted to have a background story for that very reason; there's not a whole lot of background on him, either in the actual movie or in other fics. I figured I travel off the beaten path a little bit:) Hehe, you'll see what's going to happen now! Oh, you will! And poor Jackson knows that it's a crappy plan, but he has his reasons for following through with it. Several, actually! Mmmm, Jackson in jeans and glasses…gets me every time.  
Hahaha, the part about the people not questioning is indeed naughty! About as naughty as Jackson gets when he's on a job ;) Thanks for the review!

**Mini Nicka: **Hehe, you shall see Jackson's reaction :) Thanks for reviewing!

**Riddick's Sita: **Oh, the romance will start…the question is…when? Hehe, oh, I can make you wait for a looooong time. (Just ask my poor Just Another Castaway reviewers) but I won't make you wait 45 chapters, don't worry! Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter 6: **Until You Fight, Until You Fall

Until you crash  
Until you burn  
Until you lie  
Until you learn  
Until you see  
Until you believe  
**Until you fight  
Until you fall**  
Until the end of everything at all  
Until you die  
Until you're alive

Don't save me, don't save me, cus I don't care  
Don't save me, don't save me, cus  
I don't care

**30 Seconds to Mars  
Savior**

"I don't want you to do it," Lisa said, her eyes fixed on Jackson's. A look of anger came over his face, but she knew she wasn't imagining the respect that crossed his handsome features. "Don't let them kill Keefe."

"What about you?" Cynthia asked, fully sobbing now.

"Don't worry about me," Lisa said with false bravery, and she slowly closed the phone.

* * *

After Lisa hung up the phone, she refused to meet's Jackson's eyes, though she could practically feel them burning a hole in her skull. She looked down at the phone in her hands, trying to quell her shaking and her fear. She couldn't help but feel that she had just sealed her fate.

"That…" Jackson said, sighing heavily. "Was not very smart."

Lisa didn't move. She didn't let Jackson's words get her angry or make her doubt her decision. She knew she was doing the right thing. If it got her killed…well, she certainly didn't want to think about that possibility, but she knew it could happen. She also knew that, in a way, it would be worth it. A very small way, but it was there nonetheless.

Jackson stood up, and she heard him running a hand through his hair. She still refused to look at him. The cell phone rang again, and Lisa jumped a little in her chair. Jackson froze and stood there, unmoving. He was about to reach for it in her hands when she suddenly flung it open and pulled it to her ear, shaking visibly.

"Hello?" she said with a venom that surprised both of them.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" yelled the undeniably enraged voice of Anthony Meyers.

"The same thing you're doing," Lisa sneered with surprisingly little fear. "Being an idiot."

"You're going to die for this. You know that, don't you?"

"Better to die like I'm going to than live like you are," Lisa hissed, though already in her head a rapid plan was forming. Jackson sighed, looking extremely tired all of a sudden.

"You are going to die, you little bitch," Anthony roared. "I'm going to fucking hurt you worse than you've even been hurt before!"

"I doubt it," Lisa said calmly, though inwardly she was already cringing in pain. "Spare me the theatrics, Meyers. You're a fucking piece of trash and if this Andropov guy is pissed at you, it's your fault. Should have picked a more cooperative guinea pig."

She could tell that Anthony was steaming on the other end of the line, but she wasn't caring at the moment. She was pretty sure that she would care later, but at the moment she was pretty numb to all feeling.

"I swear to God, if you fuck this up, you're both going to die."

Lisa's eyes narrowed. That wasn't going to happen, she promised herself. She wasn't going to let him kill Cynthia. She would find some way out, just like last time. She would overcome Jackson and her captors just like she had before.

"I wouldn't count on that just yet," she sneered, and then she closed the phone yet again.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Jackson's breathing was slightly heavier than normal, and Lisa's was shallow and barely detectable in her shock at what she had just done.

"That was even less smart," Jackson remarked finally, sounding slightly breathless. Lisa finally dared to look up, meeting his eyes with a determination that surprised and pleased him.

"I'm not going to let you kill Keefe," she said with vehemence. "Not if I can help it."

"Well you _can't _help it," Jackson yelled, suddenly loud and admittedly slightly frightening. "You can't help it because these people are never going to give up. They're just going to keep trying until he's _dead_. I know it's hard to believe, Leese, but they're not as nice or patient as I am. They're not going to deal with you and your bullshit!"

"It's not bullshit," Lisa said with a deadly calm, though her eyes were threatening to spill over with tears. "Keefe is a good man, and I'm not going to just sit by and let you kill him. You knew that when you took me, Jackson. You knew that and _still _you decided that I was a good choice."

"I didn't know you'd go and do something this stupid," Jackson retorted. "Anthony's not fooling around. He's going to kill you and Cynthia. He's not even going to think about it before he hands you over to his men, before he lets them do what he will with you."

Lisa's face suddenly turned a deathly pale, and she stared at him with absolute horror and disgust. Jackson didn't have the heart to continue, and they just stared at each other for another long moment before she finally spoke, her voice trembling with rage.

"You're disgusting," she whispered, her voice barely audible though the silence was deafening.

Jackson frowned, at least having the decency to look slightly ashamed.

"Yeah, well, we can't all be Charles Keefe, can we?" he asked bitterly. Lisa looked away, and Jackson surprised himself by feeling a small amount of pity as he saw the tears cascading down her cheeks.

* * *

Back at the Lux, Anthony threw the phone against the wall, roaring with rage. Cynthia just buried her face in her hands and continued sobbing. Anthony collapsed into a chair by the television, his head throbbing. He put his hand to his temple to calm it, but nothing seemed to be working. He was getting tired of Cynthia's crying. It was really starting to bother him.

"Will you just _please _shut the _fuck _up?" he asked bitterly. She immediately shut up, though she still looked ready to burst into tears. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, leaning back against the chair. Andropov was going to be _very _unhappy if he screwed this one up. He had to make her do what he said. "Listen to me," he said, sitting up and leaning across the small table to get closer to her. She backed away just as expected. "If you don't do what I tell you to do, I'm going to kill her. And I'm not just going to kill her. I'm going to hurt her, and I'm going to make you listen to her scream. I'm going to make you see her when I'm through with her, just before I kill her. I'm going to make you watch her die, and I'm going to make you go watch every little thing that happened to her on videotape." He leaned in even closer now, and Cynthia pushed further away, sniffling with fright. "I know she doesn't want you to do this," He paused, sighing slightly. "But you should know that in the end it'll be better for the both of you do what I tell you to do."

Cynthia stared at the man in front of her with a frightened look on her face. Then, ever so slowly, she nodded. Anthony smiled and leaned back in his seat. Then he stood up and retrieved his phone.

* * *

When the phone rang again, Lisa jumped visibly, and suddenly the thin line that had been holding her together was broken, and she began sobbing openly. Jackson was surprised, to say the least, and stood there staring at her for about a minute before walking over to her and taking the phone gently from her hands. She offered no resistance and he flipped the phone open with a pitying look in her direction.

"Yeah?" he said wearily.

"She's gonna do it," Anthony said, sounding mirthful. "She's on her way downstairs right now."

"Great," Jackson said with very little enthusiasm, glancing at Lisa again. "Call me later."

"I will," Anthony said, sounding slightly disappointed that Jackson wasn't as excited as he was. Jackson closed the phone and sighed, dropping it down on the table carelessly. Lisa managed to bite back her sobs enough to look up at him through her tear-dripping lashes, her lip quivering in question.

"She's going to do it," Jackson said emotionlessly. Lisa looked down at the ground, the expression on her face one of such self-loathing that it shocked Jackson. "Anthony's not going to hurt her, or you for that matter."

"But he's going to kill Keefe," Lisa said, almost inaudible.

"Will you stop thinking about that man and start thinking about yourself for once?" Jackson asked, rolling his eyes overdramatically. "Seriously, Leese…why can't you just let this guy die?"

"You don't know him," Lisa said defensively. "He's a good man!"

Jackson sighed and perched on Lisa's armrest, facing her. She unsubtly slid to the complete opposite side of the chair.

"Leese…there are three kinds of people in this world, all right?" Jackson began seriously. "One is your type. The type that become martyrs and saints. They've got the morals and the little halos and angel wings. Perfect people, right? Then there's people like me. We lie, we cheat, and we steal. We hurt and kill and generally make people miserable for our own greedy selves. But we don't steal from those perfect people. Oh no, we make a point of avoiding them. We target the third group, Keefe's group. We target the immoral, corrupt bastards and bitches that run this world. The people with the power that somehow found its way into their hands, even though they are so undeserving it is sickening. We take that power, Leese, and we keep it for ourselves. Or, we give it to people like you. Or we use you to get it." He gave her a pointed look. "So people like you and Keefe are on opposite ends of the spectrum, and I'm somewhere in the middle."

"Charles Keefe is a better man than you'll ever be," Lisa responded automatically. "You don't know him. You make these assumptions based stereotypical information. Sorry, Jack, but not everyone fits a mold."

"Sorry, Leese, but in a general sense, everyone does," Jackson retorted. Lisa glared at him.

"Then how do you explain people like Keefe?" she said angrily. "People who may do all that political power playing stuff, but are a good man when you meet them and get close to them and get to know them better? Because Keefe isn't a monster, Jackson, as much as you seem to think he is." Here, she glared again. "In fact, I'd say that the only monster here is you."

Jackson rolled his eyes and mockingly flinched as if the point hit home. Though, if he had been willing to admit it, Lisa would have seen that the point hit a lot closer to home than she might have thought.

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Harrison walked in, whistling merrily.

"I got the information from that Ben guy that she's all set to go," he said to Jackson, not noticing that Jackson and Lisa were currently in the middle of what appeared to be a mute glare-off from across the room.

"Who?" Jackson asked absently, his eyes boring into Lisa's angrily.

"Cynthia," Harrison said, looking slightly uncomfortable as he glanced from Lisa to Jackson and back to Lisa again. "Um…what's going on?"

"Nothing at all," Jackson said, tearing his eyes away from Lisa angrily. Harrison glanced between the two of them again, frowning, but wisely deciding to not say anything. Lisa tucked her legs up to her chest, curling into a small ball protectively.

"We have to release that video soon," Harrison remarked to Jackson, who was glaring at Lisa again, though she was just sitting there staring unfocusedly at the door.

"What video?" Jackson asked, his head snapping back over to Harrison's, frowning in question.

"The one…with her…for the kidnapping…" Harrison said slowly. Jackson stared at him blankly. "You can't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about."

"No one said anything to me about any sort of videotape," Jackson said, looking quite angry about this new development.

"Really?" Harrison asked. "Because Ben was saying that Anthony had told him that Derrick was supposed to make a tape of Lisa to send to the authorities."

"Why?" Jackson asked, looking less and less happy about the idea by the second.

"Just to show them that she's all right and make them keep looking," Harrison replied. "We're using Lisa's kidnapping as a sort of cover for the Keefe killing. The focus will all be shifted on us."

Lisa looked up from where she was sitting in her fetal position, glancing at the expression on Jackson's face. He looked annoyed. Extremely annoyed. Without another word for Harrison, he picked up his phone from the table and pressed a few buttons before holding it to his ear and waiting impatiently.

"What's this about a videotape?" he asked into the phone after a pause. He waited for a reply. "But no one said anything about it to me. I'm in charge of _this _operation, Anthony…no, not because of you, because of _me_. Because I know what I'm doing…oh will you please _shut up_? I'm tired of your whining. We're not sending out a videotape until you explain what the hell I'm supposed to do and why it's so important."

Harrison turned to Lisa as Jackson continued his argument.

"How you doing?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. He completely missed the dark glare that Jackson shot him, seeing as how his back was turned.

"How the fuck do you think I'm doing?" Lisa asked irritably. She felt bad the moment after she said it, however, because Harrison's pretty face actually registered a little bit of hurt with the surprise there.

"Horribly?" he asked, venturing a guess. Lisa nodded slowly.

"That about sums it up," she said.

"Your friend's gonna do what she needs to do, and you're gonna be fine," Harrison assured her with an attempt at a friendly smile. Lisa sighed and drew herself closer together.

"That's what I'm upset about," she said darkly. Harrison decided that it was best if he gave up on her, and he turned to look at Jackson, who was growling unintelligibly into the phone.

"Fine," he muttered loudly just as Harrison turned to face him. "You want your fucking videotape, fine." With that, he slammed down the phone, looking very unhappy that he had to give in to what Anthony wanted him to do. He turned to face Lisa, who was staring at him with anger and disgust in her eyes. Jackson sighed. He could take the anger, but it was the disgust that really pissed him off. She thought she was so much better than him. It was the fact that she was right that got him the most.

"So we gonna do this?" Harrison asked. "Because Ben said that they had some kind of set or something like that down in the main garage."

"We're gonna do it," Jackson said, sighing heavily. He turned to Lisa, walking closer and staring her in the eye unblinkingly, pleased when she stared right back at him, completely unfazed. "I need you to cooperate. There are men out there that have no idea what really goes on here. If you alert them to the fact that you're a prisoner, both you and Cynthia die. Got that?"

"Yeah," Lisa said numbly. Jackson bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at her with concern. She seemed listless, and unfocused, completely inattentive. He wondered if the stress had finally gotten to her.

"Leese?" he said in as gentle a voice as he could muster. "Hey, Leese?"

Lisa glanced at him, annoyance flickering fleetingly over her features.

"What?" she muttered.

"Wake up," Jackson responded flippantly, relieved that she was showing some emotion. That meant she wasn't totally gone. "Come on, it's show time."

Lisa managed to pull herself up and she moved over to the bed slowly, slipping on her shoes, which still sat beside it from the night before. Then she moved over to her two captors, who were waiting patiently for once. Harrison looked confused and Jackson actually looked concerned.

"You all right?" Harrison asked before Jackson could open his mouth. Jackson glanced at Harrison, his mouth tightening in annoyance.

"No," Lisa responded simply, not even bothering to glance at the other man. She turned to Jackson, hands folding across her chest. "Are we going?"

Jackson smiled slightly and opened the door, taking Lisa's elbow in his hand with uncharacteristic gentlemanly kindness. Harrison tagged behind like a lost puppy, his big eyes roaming the area for potential danger, though the chances of that were quite slim.

They walked down the hallway of doors and down to the rows of cubicles. There were people bustling everywhere, dressed in suits and modest knee-length skirts like Lisa wore at work. She realized that she stuck out like a sore thumb in her extremely casual clothes. Jackson and Harrison, too, were wearing jeans.

However, the workers didn't seem to mind. They greeted Jackson like he was an old friend, calling him 'Mr. Allen'. When Lisa gave him a look, he just tightened his hold on her and they continued walking.

While Jackson was playing the part of wealthy businessman, Lisa was taking in the room, examining all exits; every window, the aisles of cubicles and how big they were…She looked for vents in the ceiling and for and small doors on the walls. She counted rows and judged distance between each of them. She was doing Jackson's job perfectly, and she couldn't have been happier about it.

When they left the room and continued down the hall to the elevator, Lisa noted that the stairwell was directly across from the elevator, and that there was a fire extinguisher nearby as well. As soon as they were in the elevator, she committed the number of floors to memory. There were thirteen. She was currently on the seventh.

All through this, Jackson was blissfully unaware of what she was doing. If he had been paying attention, he would have noticed that she was looking around with far more scrutiny than was necessary. However, he was too busy muttering darkly and being pissed off about the video. And Harrison was just oblivious to everything. He was staring into a corner of the elevator with a sad expression.

As soon as they got off the elevator onto the bottom floor, the gears in Lisa's head were already turning. There was no guard watching the front door, just an old secretary at the front desk who smiled at the three of them as they walked by. Jackson smiled back tightly, and pulled Lisa along. They walked down a winding hallway, which was painted a glaring white just like the rest of the building. At the end of the hallway were two large brown double doors. Jackson walked over to them and pulled them open. Inside was a massive garage of some kind. It looked like where they would keep the trucks used for delivering.

There was a pile of boxes and things over in one corner of the room. Ben stood nearby, the purple swelling on his nose giving Lisa a feeling of pride and a slight amount of fear as they walked towards him and the two other people with him.

"Morning, Rippner," one of the people said, nodding his head. He was older, maybe in his late thirties or early fortes, with graying brown hair. "Harrison. Miss Reisart."

"Morning," Jackson and Harrison chimed. Lisa remained stubbornly silent.

"All right, I'm assuming Meyers has told you what's going on with this?"

"Barely," Jackson snorted. "The man seems to have enough problems with his own job without taking the time to explain ours."

The man sighed, rolling his eyes. Lisa suppressed a chuckle. No one in the building seemed too fond of Anthony.

"Naturally," the man said. "Well, it's not that difficult. You just have to stand here and wait while we film her."

Jackson didn't look too happy about that, but he nodded. When the man started forward to take Lisa's arm away from Jackson, however, he tensed up and pulled her away.

"No, no, no," he said coldly.

"Look, but don't touch," Harrison offered. Lisa heaved a sigh. Jackson shot her a look.

"Fine then, Mr. Rippner, you bring her over here," the man said impatiently. "We have to get this done before Johnson comes to pick it up."

Jackson wordlessly led Lisa over to the black curtain. There was a single chair there, and Jackson helped her to sit in it. Then, he actually fussed with her curls (_Fussed with her curls!) _until they framed her face perfectly.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were gay," Lisa muttered, arching an eyebrow.

"I just wanted you to look nice," Jackson said simply. He gave her a look. "Not that you didn't already."

Lisa rolled her eyes, though admittedly blushed, and allowed him to position her hands in her lap. She was acutely aware that the three men were all watching her with lusty stares, and fully realized that Jackson was the only thing between her and the parking lot incident of two years ago.

"Thanks for being so concerned," she said sarcastically, and he chuckled slightly, stepping back to view her. He nodded when he decided that she looked acceptable.

"What is she supposed to say, Derrick?" he asked the older man, whose name was, evidently, Derrick.

"Nothing. Ben will do the talking," Derrick said. "She just sits there."

"This is ridiculous," Jackson said with a sigh, moving just out of the tripod camera's line of sight.

"Talk to Anthony about it," Derrick said with a snort. He moved behind the camera, and Ben stepped closer, glaring at Lisa. She shrunk away from him fearfully, against the side of the chair. Jackson took a step forward but was pushed back by the third man. "Ready…action," Derrick called. Ben slipped a mask over his face and stepped closer to Lisa. She pulled away even further, glancing over at Jackson with her eyes pleading with him. The third man was actually having to struggle with him to hold him back.

"Lisa Reisart was kidnapped from her own home this morning at eight o'clock a.m.," Ben stated. While he spoke he let a hand drift out to twirl one of Lisa's curls absently. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt warm tears drifting out from beneath her lashes. "She is unharmed, provided with food, water, and clothing. For her safe return we ask one million dollars."

Lisa's eyes flew open and her head swiveled towards Jackson. He was staring at Ben with his mouth hanging open in apparent rage. Ben didn't seem to notice, and he grabbed a fistful of Lisa's hair, pulling it so she yelped and stood up beside him. Jackson looked like he was ready to throttle Ben.

"I swear if he hurts her, you're going to die," he said lowly to the man holding him back. The man just sighed and continued to hold Jackson in place, though he did seem a little nervous.

"If you do not return us the one million dollars, then we will have to hurt her," Ben continued in a gruff voice. He smirked beneath the mask. "Please don't make us do that."

As he spoke, his hand made its way across her waist and up to her chest. Lisa tried to pull away, whimpering fearfully, but he held her there by her hair.

"Good!" Derrick exclaimed, pausing the camera. "All right, we'll set that up and send it to Mr. Reisart right away. Jackson, take her back…"

Jackson clearly wasn't listening. He shoved the man holding him back aside and ran the few steps to Ben, pulling back his arm and punching him through the mask. The white porcelain of it shattered, and Ben yelled in pain, clutching at it. Wildly, he swung out as well, and succeeded in hitting a frozen-in-place Lisa across the jaw. Instinctively she kicked out, managing to blindly find his groin. He fell to the ground, groaning, and Jackson nodded at her approvingly.

"I said no fucking touching her," he growled to Derrick, taking Lisa's arm in one hand and wrapping the other around her waist to steady her, as she was looking slightly ill. Derrick stared at Ben wordlessly and didn't say anything. Jackson nodded to Harrison and the three of them hurried out of the room.

* * *

They bolted back down the hallway and made it into the elevator before Lisa broke down. She was ashamed that she couldn't hold the tears in, but the feeling of Ben's hands roaming over her disgusted her to the point that she felt like she was covered in filth.

After her trauma, she was glad when Jackson pulled her into a comforting embrace. Though only three months ago she had been terrified of him, she now saw that he was like a puppy dog to their wolves. She knew he would never do what Ben had just done, nor what Peter Johnson had done. The look on his face when Ben was doing it was enough to decide that for her.

So she laid her head against his chest and sobbed, knowing full well that he was going to taunt her about it later and not caring a bit. She just cried. Jackson pulled his arms across her shoulders and let her cry, not saying anything, knowing that she needed some time.

When the elevator reached the seventh floor, Lisa wiped her eyes with a trembling hand and followed Harrison and Jackson out into the room filled with cubicles. People were working studiously, but when one woman saw Lisa's fearful tears, she ran right over.

"Honey, are you okay?" she asked sympathetically. Jackson and Harrison stopped and waited, looking impatient.

"Yeah," Lisa lied, nodding, wiping her eyes again. "I just got some bad news…my mother died."

"Oh, sweetie!" the woman exclaimed, smiling sadly and handing Lisa a tissue that somehow appeared in her hands. She turned to Jackson. "This your girlfriend, Mr. Allen?"

Jackson shook his head and grinned at Lisa sadly.

"No, no," he said. Then he paused. "My wife."

Lisa glared at him but just kept the act up and wiped her eyes again. Jackson walked over to her and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her into another tender and comforting hug. This time, she didn't let herself melt into him like she had on the elevator. She just stood there, letting him milk the stupid joke for all it was worth, feeling disgusting and used.

As she stood there, she saw Harrison watching her with sadness in his gaze. Maybe it was the large childish quality of his eyes, but she felt like he felt sorry for her. After all, he was younger than Jackson and clearly not as experienced, and he really didn't seem like he had too much fun with his job. Lisa wondered dimly if Jackson had ever been that reluctant to hurt anyone. She couldn't imagine that, but she figured that at one point he had probably been at least somewhat human. 'Somewhat' being the key word, naturally.

"I hope you feel better, sweetie," the woman said. She smiled politely at Jackson and Lisa and turned to get back to work. Jackson didn't release his hold on Lisa until they were standing in front of the door and he had to unlock it.

He seemed to be pissed off about something, and as soon as he, Lisa, and Harrison had gotten into the room, he slammed the door with venom. Lisa jumped slightly with surprise and practically sprinted across the room to the bed, where she sat down, her arms folded across her chest protectively. Jackson threw his keys on the table and moved to the mini fridge, pulling out an ice pack. After wrapping it in a dishtowel that he retrieved from a drawer in the desk, he moved over to Lisa, holding it out to her as if it were some kind of peace offering. She took it gratefully and put it to her face, sighing with a flinch at the coldness.

Jackson muttered under his breath angrily, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"What the hell was with Ben?" Harrison spoke up suddenly, glancing at Lisa and then looking towards Jackson.

"Ben's not fond of either I or Lisa," Jackson retorted. "And decided to kill two birds with one stone; piss me off and torture Lisa."

Lisa drew her arms even tighter across her chest, avoiding the looks of the two men.

"What a bastard," Harrison said under his breath darkly. Jackson nodded, glancing at Lisa again.

"Yeah," he said with a growl. "I'll kill him before this operation is over."

Lisa smiled slightly. She knew that wasn't just an empty threat.


	7. It's Only Just Begun

WOW, sorry about that horribly long wait. My internet on my laptop died for a while, so I was stuck with no way of getting this chapter up! But now it's fixed, and I can post again! Sorry about keeping you waiting :(

Thank you _so _much to everyone who reviewed! And please, please, please review again!

**The ShoelessOne:** You absolutely made my day! I'm not even kidding, I was smiling the whole day after I read your review! I'm so glad you like it because everything you say I'm doing, I'm desperately attempting to do! I'm also glad that you think my secondary characters have personalities, because I hate when secondary characters don't, so that was one of my biggest challenges, as well as writing Jackson's character. About Lisa's name's spelling: Oops :). I took it off IMDB a while back, and they either changed the spelling, or I just read it wrong. Hahaha. Thanks for pointing that out. Her name spelling will now mysteriously change. I'm so happy you like the story! Ahhh, thanks so much for reviewing!

**No One Mourns the Wicked: **Thanks! You made my day too! Haha. I'm really tired of the slutty L/J stories too, which is why I don't read much Red Eye fic. I just write my own! Haha. I like stories that take their times with the romances, like real romances take time to develop. And this one should take longer than normal considering he attempted to kill her, once. Hahaha. I'm glad you like my original characters, too. I put a great amount of thought into them, especially Anthony and Harrison, because I wanted them to be just as developed as Lisa and Jackson. Hehe, I'm kind of starting to like Harrison, too. Originally he was going to be a jerk, but so many stories on this site have Jackson's assistant be a jerk. It's not a bad thing, but I just wanted to do something different, so I made him nice instead! Haha, thanks for the review support! Actually, I'm rather happy about the reviews, though. It's the most I've ever gotten in six chapters! Thanks so much for reviewing!

**Dave-The-Laugh's-NewHotness:** Chya sweet and protective Jackson! I love that side of him, because you can tell that he has it in the movie, it's just repressed. I bring it out in him :) Thanks for reviewing!

**Artificial Night: **Thanks so much! You're awesomer for leaving me such a nice review! I'm glad you think everyone's in character! That's my biggest fear, that Lisa and Jackson will be very un-Lisa and Jacksonish, and I would be SO mad if that happened. Thanks for reviewing!

**Julia.E.Gallagher: **Ben is most definitely a bastard, and he's not done being a bastard just yet, either! Haha, and yay for signing in! My name's Julia :) Haha. I read the name and got happy! Thanks for reviewing!

**Blushing Sigh: **Hahaha, oh, I do indeed want it, and so do they. They just have to realize that they want it! Hehehe. Yeah, Jackson definitely respects her, and her bravery. I have a feeling that, in a woman, Jackson looks for toughness, considering he's all…Jackson and tough. Haha. Protective Jackson is _very _yummy! I agree! And fluff is good too! Very, very good! And Harrison's definitely going to be in it quite a bit. I haven't decided on much regarding him, but I will in the future. I already have several ideas as to where his character might go. Thanks for reviewing!

**Seghen: **Sorry I made you wait :( But now it's here! Haha. I'm glad you think it's interesting! Thanks for the review!

**BregoBeauty: **Ohhh, there will be some killing involved eventually. I just haven't decided _when _yet. But I will! And it will be relatively soon, I believe. Thanks for reviewing!

**Andraya TheLat: **I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I'm glad you think it's getting better! Haha. I'm trying! Thanks for the review!

**Trentaholic: **Yeah, face punching and groin kicking is pretty essential stuff, especially with Ben around. And yeah, Harrison is _so _Jared. I wanted him to have big puppy-dog eyes, and the moment I wrote that, I was like 'oh man…Jared!' I really badly want to see 30 Seconds to Mars in concert! And I will, eventually! Hahaha. They came near us on Halloween night, but I couldn't get anyone to take me. Me and my sister were majorly pissed because she loves Seether, and I love 30 Seconds to Mars, and we wanted to go see them open for Audioslave! My So Called Life is amazing! It's a really funny show. I started watching it for Jared, and ended up loving every minute of it. If you ever get to see it, the one character who's really awesome is Rayanne. She's so funny. Jared's very adorable, and you really just want to attack him with hugs. I remember Shannon in a few episodes, and he was very cute! He didn't say much, but he usually just hung around Jordan (Jared's character) and looked adorable! And don't worry about rambling about 30STM. I do it too :)  
Right…fanfiction…what fanfiction? Hahaha. Anyway, I'm very glad you liked it, and oh, look at that! I didn't update before Monday! Hahaha. What bands did you see? And Thanks for reviewing!

**Be11011: **I'm glad you loved it! Thanks so much for reviewing!

**Mini Nicka:** Haha, yeah, they're so totally into each other, but they just don't realize it yet. But if I have my way…they will! They will realize it very soon! Thanks for the review!

* * *

**Chapter 7: **It's Only Just Begun

Does it feel like we've never been alive?  
Does it seem like we've only just begun?  
Does it feel like we've never been alive inside?  
Does it seem like it's only just begun?  
**It's only just begun.**

30 Seconds to Mars  
R-Evolve

Cynthia stood behind the front desk at the Lux, carefully trying to conceal her emotions from the endless stream of bothersome customers and her coworkers. She definitely seemed preoccupied; anyone could have seen that. Anthony, watching her from the lounging area across the room, certainly noticed it and cursed her inability to pretend that nothing was wrong. The fact that it seemed like Jackson was right about her pissed him off to no end.

After a few hours, he moved from his place where he was pretending to read a rather lengthy book, and strode towards the front desk.

"Hi," he said to Cynthia, as she was bent over some customer's records with false concentration. At the sound of his all-too-familiar voice, she jumped into the air, yelping with surprise.

"You okay?" asked her co-worker, Dan, smiling sadly and putting a steadying hand on her arm. He just thought she was preoccupied with her fears for Lisa, who he knew was missing thanks to the investigators who came in to question them. Cynthia nodded quickly, turning to face him with a sad smile. Anthony felt like slapping her.

"Yeah," she murmured, turning back to face Anthony with obvious dread. "Can I help you?"

"I was just seeing you about that plumbing problem I had upstairs," Anthony said politely.

"Oh, right," Cynthia said with very little enthusiasm. "I'll be back in a little while, Dan. You watch the front desk, all right?"

"Yeah," Dan said, frowning suspiciously at Cynthia's retreating back. He looked like he was going to say something, but then Anthony smirked at him knowingly and walked off after Cynthia, and Dan closed his mouth slowly, looking crushed.

Cynthia didn't notice all this as she walked numbly towards the elevator, forcing her legs to move though they were threatening to freeze up in her fear. She could hear Anthony's footsteps behind her, and she felt suddenly sick to her stomach. She couldn't go through with it. She couldn't do it.

But she had to. She had to protect Lisa because she knew that Lisa would do the same thing if she was in her place. Cynthia suddenly had much more respect for what Lisa had to go through at the hands of Jackson Rippner on that flight.

"Keep going," Anthony muttered impatiently, and Cynthia realized she had stopped walking. With a distinct slump to her shoulders, she walked briskly forward until she was within the safe confines of the elevator. Then, she allowed herself to break down. Anthony followed her after glancing around to make sure that no one saw the pretty red head crying. When no one even glanced up at the sound of her sobs, he pressed the button for the tenth floor, the floor he was currently staying on.

"Is Lisa okay?" Cynthia asked pitifully. Anthony sighed heavily.

"She's fine," he said. "I'll get her on the phone right now, then we're going to have a little talk about how you really need to start getting better at pretending nothing's wrong."

"Yeah, it's not that easy," Cynthia retorted, though she sounded fearful. "I'm not heartless like you."

"Indeed," Anthony said absently, pulling out his phone as the elevator doors dinged open. He quickly dialed Jackson's number, glancing at Cynthia. It frightened him that he didn't even feel the slightest bit of pity for her.

* * *

The ringing phone startled Jackson out of his angry meditation, and he jumped slightly before reaching for it. It was Anthony. He smiled grimly to himself. It was time to bitch that bastard out.

"Why wasn't I informed about that video, you fucking idiot?" he growled dangerously as he answered the phone, without even an introduction.

"Calm down!" Anthony exclaimed over the other line, sounding surprised at Jackson's venom. "I didn't tell you because I know you'd flip out and wouldn't want to do it."

"Well, I wasn't presented much of a choice, was I?" Jackson asked bitterly. Anthony sighed.

"Look, this is my operation and I decided that we needed a distraction so people would lay off the Lux. The police have been swarming all over this hell hole, and it's a huge risk to take, killing Keefe now."

"You didn't think of that?" Jackson asked, shooting for innocent but still sounding extremely pissed off. "I'd think it was common sense."

"I didn't have as much time to think about it as I would have liked!" Anthony exclaimed, sounding slightly flustered. Jackson smiled smugly, glancing at Lisa and Harrison, who were actually having a conversation. Lisa laughed and Jackson frowned.

"Yeah, well I had even less time, and I'm at least doing my job. Wanna trade?"

"I can handle it," Anthony retorted angrily. "Get Lisa on the phone. It's time for Cynthia to talk to her."

"We're not done discussing what Ben did to Lisa," Jackson said. Before Anthony could ask any questions, Jackson called for Lisa. She looked up, surprised, and excused herself from Harrison politely, not noticing how Jackson's knuckles suddenly turned white as he gripped the phone tighter.

"H…hello?" Lisa said tremulously once she had the phone in her hands.

"Lisa," said Cynthia with a relieved sigh, and Lisa felt tears springing to her eyes at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Oh my God, Cynthia," she sobbed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," Cynthia said, sniffling a little. "You?"

"Yeah," Lisa replied, dropping her head and staring at the ground to avoid Jackson's stare, which was beginning to unnerve her.

"I'm going to get you out of there, Lisa," Cynthia said with conviction. "You're going to be okay."

"I know," Lisa whispered, running a hand through her hair and again cursing her lack of hairbrush. "I'll…I'll see you soon."

"Yeah," Cynthia replied. Lisa found herself unable to say goodbye, and she just shoved the phone into Jackson's hands without looking at him. She moved over to the bed numbly, not hearing what Jackson was saying to Anthony. She felt like she was going to be sick. Hearing Cynthia's voice and hearing the determination when she said she was going to help her made her worry. Should she really be risking her life and Cynthia's by attempting to escape like she was planning to?

Jackson hung up the phone and threw it down on the table, looking even more pissed off than he had been before he picked it up. When he saw the unfocused, numb expression on Lisa's face, he slowly walked over, as if afraid to ask her what was wrong. Not one to pass up an opportunity to pry and see what was bothering her, however, he stood in front of her and slowly crouched down to eyelevel, looking at her seriously.

"What's wrong?" he asked her. She looked up at him, looking mildly surprised at the fact that he was so close.

"Everything," she replied, glancing away quickly to hint to him that the conversation was over. Jackson, however, wasn't good at taking hints.

"Naturally," he said nonchalantly. "But at this specific moment, what's making you look so…glum."

Lisa sighed and turned to face him with the utmost reluctance.

"Why do you care all of a sudden," she asked bitterly.

"Because you're the variable here, Lesse. You're the one that this job depends on. And if you're not perfectly content, then I have to do something about that."

"You know what you can do?" Lisa asked with false sweetness, leaning forward a little. She thought about saying 'pull the stick out of your ass' or something along those lines, but decided against it. "You can let me go home…and you can disappear out of my life forever this time. Sound good?"

Jackson smirked slightly and looked down at his hands.

"Easier said than done, Lesse," he said simply. "Though, I promise you when this is all over, you will be going home, and I will be disappearing from your life forever."

"Is that the best I can get?" she asked with mocking disappointment. Jackson smirked at her.

"I'm afraid so," he remarked. Lisa shrugged, though she still looked upset. Jackson wondered what Cynthia had said and if that was the cause. "You want something to eat?"

"Got anymore lasagna?" Lisa asked. Jackson frowned, then suddenly grinned.

"No," he said. "But we can get you some if you promise to be a good girl."

* * *

A few minutes later, Lisa stood alone in a large room filled with showers and luxurious bathtubs. She heard the door click locked behind her, and she turned to look at the door, happy to see that there was a lock on the inside as well. She quickly drew the chain through it, and turned back to survey the room. After a few moments of staring, she walked over to the large vanity on the other side of the room, which held an array of shampoos and other things, along with makeup. Lisa wondered if Jackson had done that, or if it was for the females in the agency. Either way, she was grateful for it.

She picked up a few of the shampoos, testing the smell of them before settling on one that smelled strongly of roses. She also picked a matching conditioner and shower gel. Feeling fresher already, she moved over to one of the showers and started to take off her clothes, trying not to be too modest. She knew that there were probably cameras hidden in the large room, and it was more than likely that they were in the shower stall as well. At the moment, she didn't really care. It was going to feel _so _good to take a shower.

Once she was in the shower, she turned the water on, and found it surprisingly quick to warm up. Once she got it to her preferred temperature, she simply stood in it for a while, enjoying the warmth. After a while she began washing up, and completely lost track of time. It was like everything just stopped, and she couldn't remember how long ago she had stepped in. Frankly, she didn't care, and she found herself washing her hair a second time, and then a third.

When she finally decided that Jackson was probably going to kill her if she took any longer, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in one of the warm, fluffy towels, grabbing another one from the pile in the corner and wrapping it around her hair. She looked down at her clothes and decided that she wouldn't put them on just yet.

She walked over to the vanity and sat down, looking over the display of makeup carefully. They had her favorite shade of lipstick. She was beginning to think that this was Jackson's doing after all. She was glad he did it, though, and she sat down to apply the makeup. She finished in record time, making up for the unnaturally long shower, and blow-dried her hair, making sure it was perfect. The thought didn't strike her that she was making herself look good for _Jackson_ and no one else. If it had, perhaps she wouldn't have spent so much time. Or maybe she would have.

* * *

_"Lisa?"_

_Lisa turned to face her father with concern already written on her features. He sounded unhappy about something. Scared, even._

_"What is it?" she asked him. Joe stood in the doorway of her room, looking around at all the artifacts from her childhood before sighing heavily and crossing the room to his daughter. He sat down on the foot of her bed, and suddenly she felt like a child again. Though before the red eye flight, she probably would have felt the need to make the feeling go away, now she relished it. She even scooted a little closer to him_

_"Jackson Rippner disappeared from the hospital today," he said, his voice hollow and numb. The police don't know how…they say that several men visited him, and when visiting hours were up, they went in to check on him, but they were all gone."_

_Lisa's first emotion was one of fear. But she was surprised that the fear was not for herself. No, Jackson would never hurt her. The fear was for _Jackson_, of all people. After all, he had been attacked in the hospital once. What if this time they had been smarter and had taken him out of the hospital before killing him? _

_She noticed her father watching her, waiting for her reaction, so she looked down at the covers on her bed._

_"Oh," she said lamely. She gave a small huff of a laugh and looked back up at him, surprised that there was a lump growing in her throat. "Well it's not like we didn't expect it or anything."_

_"Yeah," Joe said, sounding relieved that she wasn't having a breakdown over it like he apparently thought she was going to. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him, kissing the top of her head tenderly. "But don't worry, honey. They've got so many people out there looking for him…they're sure to find him."_

_"Yeah," Lisa agreed, though inwardly she was disagreeing with every word. "I'm sure they will too." _

_Though, as she considered it, she realized that she'd actually be a little disappointed if he was caught.

* * *

_

When Lisa knocked on the door to be let out, she heard Jackson moving behind the door, and he opened it slowly. When he saw her, her hair curled perfectly and her make-up replaced, he smiled brightly.

"Don't you look nice," he said with a sweet smile for her. Lisa wondered how the hell he got so bi-polar. One minute he was glaring at her from across the room, and the next he was taking her out to dinner and complimenting her, though she was fairly sure that she didn't look any different than when he had seen her at her apartment, which wasn't all that long ago. She may have smelled a little different, but that was about it. And Jackson wasn't standing anywhere near where he'd have to be standing to be able to smell the difference.

"Thank you," she said politely.

"We're going out to get you some new clothes," Jackson explained. "The restaurant I want to take you to is in the shopping mall. It's nearby."

"Won't there be an issue though?" Lisa asked. "I mean…isn't my face currently plastered all over the news?"

"Yeah," Jackson said, shrugging. "Doesn't matter. People don't notice things, Leese. Just pretend to be happy, and they won't even look twice. Besides, we've got your hat. Just tuck your hair up, and you look like a somewhat different person."

He handed Lisa her hat, and she put it on her head reluctantly.

"All right," she said as she tucked her hair up into it.

"And don't do anything cute, huh, Leese?" Jackson reminded her. "Remember that Cynthia's still with Anthony."

Lisa nodded.

"I know," she said. Jackson smiled.

"Good," he said pleasantly. "Now, let's head out. Remember, Leese. _Happy_."

"Happy," Lisa repeated, rolling her eyes. Jackson took her by the hand and led her down the hall, past their room, and into the room full of cubicles. Once again Jackson greeted the people with a friendly smile, reassuring the woman who had seen Lisa crying earlier that Lisa was okay, and they were just going out to eat.

As soon as they got inside the elevator, Jackson's 'Mr. Allen' persona faded, and he stood with a smirk on his face.

"That was pleasant," he said sarcastically. Lisa nodded.

"Yeah," she said. There was a pause, and then, "I have a question."

Jackson groaned mockingly and raised his eyes heavenward.

"Why?" he asked in a small voice. Lisa couldn't suppress a laugh.

"Sorry," she said. "But this one's important, I think."

"I'm sure," Jackson snorted, but Lisa ignored him.

"I was wondering if maybe one of the people in that room would recognize me, from the news," Lisa said. "Knowing my father, the story's all over the place by now."

"It is," Jackson said. "But if anyone says anything to you, just deny it. Say that you've gotten it a lot today, but you're not Lisa Reisart and you never even met her in your life. Your name is Melissa Allen."

"Oh, great," Lisa said sarcastically. Jackson smirked.

"I knew you'd like that," he said. The elevator doors dinged open, and Lisa and Jackson stepped out into the front foyer. Jackson smiled at the secretary behind the desk.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Allen," she said to him in a creaky voice, smiling pleasantly.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Delory," Jackson replied with sugary sweetness.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Gwen?" the secretary asked, shaking her head at Jackson with a tight-lipped smile.

"At least until you start calling me Dan!" Jackson said with a laugh, and he pulled Lisa towards the door. "See you later, Mrs. Delory."

"Goodbye, Mr. Allen," Gwen replied, and Jackson chuckled to himself as they exited the front door and moved towards his car. The parking lot was now filled with cars, but they moved over to a black car in the front row that definitely looked like something Jackson would drive.

"This wasn't here when we got here," Lisa said, glancing at Jackson as he opened the door for her and she slid gracefully into the comfortable seat.

"I had Johnson bring it," Jackson explained, getting into the front seat and sighing as if there was nowhere in the world he would rather be than in that car. Lisa felt a grin forming. Guys and their cars.

"It's nice," she remarked, making conversation idly. She felt like a totally different person as she chatted with him idly about cars and other things. Maybe it was the refreshing shower that did it, but she was feeling a lot more comfortable with Jackson than she probably should be, considering that he would still have to hurt her if things went wrong.

"I forgot to mention it," Jackson said, sighing heavily, which told Lisa that whatever followed would _not _be good news. "I think you're going to have to be here a little bit longer."

Lisa looked at him with surprise and disappointment, the smiled fading off her face as her expression returned to resignedly somber once again.

"Why?" she asked.

"The first night that Keefe gets there, he's not going to be in until 2 AM, and is leaving at 5 AM to go to some function thing. That's a very small window of opportunity, and knowing Anthony and his men, they're not going to be able to work with it. So they'll have to do it two days later, when he retires at 11 and gets up at 7."

"Meaning I'll be here for three extra days?" Lisa asked with a heavy sigh.

"At least," Jackson said sympathetically. Lisa sighed and shook her head, glaring at the large building in front of them as if it were the building's fault she was stuck there. Jackson started the car and pulled out of the parking space with surprising ease. He maneuvered around the parking lot expertly, and soon they were out into the street. Lisa was surprised that he was such a good driver. She never would have taken him for one.

They glided out into the street, driving at a reasonable speed to the first light, which was a few yards outside the parking lot of the building. Lisa glanced back at it once, then looked back towards the front, deciding that she was going to at least _attempt_ to enjoy this little outing, though the company was hardly favorable, because it could be one of her last in a while, if Anthony screwed up as bad as everyone seemed to think he was going to.

"Where are we going?" she asked Jackson after clearing her throat slightly. Jackson took a sharp right turn, and Lisa bumped into him slightly. He smirked at her.

"Sorry," he said. "Wasn't paying attention. I haven't been here in a while."

"I noticed," Lisa remarked, her eyes wide as she listened to the angry beeps of the people in the cars behind them.

"To answer your question, we're going to the mall down here. There's an Italian place inside." He turned and grinned at her. "They've got great lasagna."

Lisa couldn't help a small smile as well, but she quickly turned away and looked out the window again. Jackson sighed; making conversation with her was next to impossible. Though he had to admit, she was far better than she had been on the airplane. That had been the least fun he'd ever had on an assignment. Not only was she completely unwilling to cooperate, but she completely unwilling to make small talk once she found out who he was. Usually, he hated people like that…but with Lisa, he had to make an exception once he found out the reason for her closedness.

Stealing a glance at her out of the corner of his eye, he saw that she was crying. She was trying to hide it, of course (she was almost as prideful as himself, sometimes), but he could see the tears running down her cheeks and the furtive way in which she tried to hide it.

"You okay?" he asked, causing her to jump with surprise. She turned to him, and miraculously she looked perfectly fine, like she had never cried a tear in her life.

"Yeah," she said convincingly, shrugging. "Well…no, but…I guess."

He chuckled slightly under his breath. Oh, she was good. And she wasn't going to give him anything. He liked that. For some odd reason…he liked it. What a challenge!

"I'm glad," he said, trying to sound genuine. "Because the portions at this place are huge. Wouldn't want you getting nauseas on me."

"That won't happen," Lisa assured him with a confident smirk. "Not with lasagna."

"Personally, I don't care all that much for lasagna," Jackson said in a confidential tone. "Used to like it…but after having my mother's lasagna…you'll never go back. Trust me."

Hearing Jackson talk about his mother gave Lisa a jolt of surprise, and she almost blurted out _"you had a mother?" _before she realized what a ridiculous thing that was to say. The sadness in Jackson's tone, too, was puzzling.

"Really?" she asked with a small smile. "My mother's lasagna was _horrible_. Did your mother have a special recipe?"

She was desperately keeping herself in check, reminding herself not to ask anything about why he was sad, or what happened to his mother. She knew those were horrid questions to ask, but she also knew that she had an annoying habit of asking horrid questions. She certainly didn't want to piss Jackson off. Not when it appeared that they were actually making somewhat normal conversation.

"Yeah," he answered her question absently, appearing somewhat nostalgic. "Though I never got it from her. I should have gotten it…I miss it."

"Did she ever write it down?" Lisa asked. Jackson shrugged.

"I never looked," he said, sounding miles away. Lisa just turned and looked out the window, as they drove on in silence.

* * *

_Jackson tore out of the kitchen and ran for the front door with an almost animalistic fear, his breath heaving in his chest. Behind him, he heard his father growl with anger, and he charged down the hallway after his son, his great clomping footsteps rattling his mother's blue china in the dining room. _

_Jackson reached for the doorknob, and had just wrapped his slim, young fingers around it when his father grabbed him and yanked him back from it viciously. Jackson yelled and kicked and fought his father to get away, but nothing worked. His father's iron grip dragged him back down the hallway, towards the kitchen, and towards his mother's dead corpse. _

_"Let me go!" Jackson yelled with surprising bravery. He kicked his foot out, and noticed with surprise that it connected with something that immediately skittered across the floor and under the kitchen table. It was the gun. His father had dropped the gun. Jackson looked up at his father, but the man didn't appear to notice. He just dragged Jackson over to his mother's body and threw the boy down onto it. Jackson landed face down atop his mother, staring at the wide and lifeless eyes with horror filling him. He yelled and pushed away against the cabinet, trying not to look at the blood that he knew covered the front of his shirt. _

_"Stay here," his father said in the commanding voice that always made Jackson do exactly what he wanted. With that, the older man turned and walked down the hallway, apparently searching for something. Jackson would have bet anything that he was looking for the gun._

_Though Jackson knew that moving presented a great risk, he also knew that _not _moving could be far more disastrous. As soon as his father had turned his back, Jackson leapt to his feet and sprinted across the kitchen, diving under the table and grabbing the gun. He heard his father walking back towards him, muttering angrily, so he hurried and made sure the gun was ready to fire. That was another thing his father was good for; teaching him how to use a weapon._

_As his father walked into the room, Jackson raised the gun and pointed it straight at his father. He was a terrible shot, he knew, but he couldn't miss from this far away. _

_"Don't move," Jackson said in a low voice, copying what he had heard in movies and on television before. Jackson's father stared at him with his mouth open, not comprehending in his intoxicated state exactly what was going on. _

_"What the fuck you think you're doing?" he asked Jackson, actually sounding a little scared. Jackson relished that fear. It was the same fear he always felt when his father was in the room. It was good to have the tables reversed for once. "Come on, Jack. Put the gun down and we'll have a little talk, okay?" He glanced over at his wife's body. "She was having an affair. Did you know that, Jack?"_

_"Stop it," Jackson growled under his breath. _

_"She was cheating on me, Jack," his father whispered desperately, his words slurring. _

_"No she wasn't," Jackson whispered, feeling suddenly powerless, though he still held the gun held firmly in his hands._

_"She was gonna leave_ both of us_, Jack," his father said, this time nearly shouting. Jackson felt tears coming to his eyes, and the gun wavered in his hands. In his mind he saw his mother dancing in the kitchen as she baked cookies. He saw her pretty head bent over his math homework, laughing as they did it together. He saw her sitting on his bed, running her hand through his hair as she tucked him in. He saw her cowering back against the counter as his drunk father lashed out and hit her again and again and again... _

_For the first time, Jackson felt like he finally had a handle on things. Maybe she had been cheating on his father, but really…why wouldn't she? The man was a monster. He didn't blame her. And maybe she was going to leave both of them, though he privately knew that she would have taken him with her no matter where she was going. And maybe she was gone forever, but Jackson knew he could avenge her._

_He raised the gun straight, his normally loveably large eyes hardening with a chill that would be there for the rest of his life. His father's eyes went wide, and he looked at his son pleadingly, but Jackson was done. He fired. _

_His father fell to the ground as the bullet pierced his chest, yelling in pain. Jackson walked forward a few steps and shot him again. Then in the head, and then once more just to make sure he was really dead. Then he stood over the body with a triumphant gleam in his eye._

_As he looked down at the blood pooling around the man who he had once called 'father' or 'sir', the sing-song taunts of the other children rang in his head. And for once, he smiled, for he truly was "Jack the Ripper" now._

_Slowly, he walked around the counter again and stared down at his beloved mother with tears in his eyes. He knelt down beside her and kissed his hand, letting it rest on her chest, where blood pooled. _

_"I love you," he whispered tearfully, and he started to stand when he noticed that her necklace was out, resting against her chest. He reached down and unclasped it gently, taking it in his hands and looking at it. It was one of those with the saints on it. Saint Jerome, who he knew was the saint of those who are abandoned, and of orphans. It was ironic that his mother had worn that because of her abandonment by her drunken husband, and now he had it in his hands. He, an orphan. Gently, he slipped it around his neck, tucking it under his shirt before taking the gun in his hands and walking out the back door as the first sirens sounded in the distance.

* * *

_

They arrived at the mall several minutes later. Once Lisa had rearranged her hair again, they stepped out of their car and moved towards the mall, arm and arm like a couple might.

"Okay," Jackson said thoughtfully. "We need to buy clothes for you. Enough to last a few days, at the least. I'm not feeling very optimistic about you getting out of here anytime soon."

"Yeah," Lisa said with a sigh. "Neither am I."

Once they got into the building, Jackson moved them purposefully towards a store called Rampage, which Lisa had never been in before. She allowed Jackson to lead her in, looking around at all the clothes, which were actually very nice. Definitely her style. The fact that Jackson had known that creeped her out slightly.

"We should also get some hair dye," Jackson said thoughtfully. "Not for right now…just in case anything goes wrong. Or maybe wigs."

"Wigs, definitely," Lisa responded automatically. She was very proud of her hair and didn't want to have to ruin it with dye. Jackson seemed to agree, because he nodded with a small laugh as they walked into Rampage. One of the sales clerks, who was organizing the clothes on the rack and looked like she was dying for a customer, smiled at them when they walked in, maybe a little too cheerfully.

"Hello!" she said in a chipper voice that reminded Lisa of Cynthia's. "Would you like some help?"

"No, no, we're fine," Jackson said with his suck-up smile. "We're just browsing."

"Oh," the clerk said, looking let down. She nodded and went back to her organizing. "Okay. If you need any help, feel free to ask."

"Will do," Jackson said, his voice oozing sugar. Lisa fought hard to keep from laughing. She made it until they were halfway across the store, then allowed her shoulders to shake with silent giggles.

"You're such a suck-up," she said in a tone that could actually be described as fond. He grinned at her and shrugged in a way that said 'what are you gonna do?'. She laughed and shook her head and they moved over to one of the racks which held a pretty shirt that Lisa liked. She picked it up and glanced at it.

"Not that one," Jackson said. He picked up a smaller size and held it up for her. "This one will fit you better."

"Are you sure?" Lisa asked, looking at the number on the tag doubtfully.

"Positive," Jackson insisted. Lisa shrugged and put the larger size back, heading over to another shirt that she liked.

"Do I have some sort of spending limit?" she asked with a grin. Jackson shrugged.

"It's not my money," Jackson replied. "It's Anthony's. I took it out of his room when you were in the shower."

He grinned at her, and she laughed.

"Won't he notice it's missing?" she asked him. Jackson shrugged.

"Yeah," he said. "But how's he supposed to know it was me? He thinks that no one can get in there but him and Ben."

"So he's going to blame Ben?" Lisa asked with a devious grin. Jackson just smiled.

They walked over to another rack, and Lisa picked up a few things, which Jackson either approved of, or held up a different size for. By the time they had made a full sweep of the store, it had been twenty minutes, and Lisa had enough things to last her a few weeks. Jackson didn't say anything about it, just let her go try the clothes on, which only took five minutes. Lisa was slightly creeped out that Jackson's predicted sizes fit her so well.

"Record timing for a female," he said with a small grin, carrying her bundle of clothes over to the store clerk, who eyed the pile with wide eyes.

"Umm…you want all of this?" she asked doubtfully. Jackson nodded with a very fake smile. The girl shrugged and started ringing up the clothes, making idle chatter about how dead the mall was, and about how they were her only customers in four hours. Jackson chatted back in the same manner, looking and sounding normal for once.

When they got out of the store, Lisa turned to Jackson with a small smile on her face.

"You know, you're really good at pretending you aren't who you are," she remarked. Jackson laughed lightly.

"Years of practice," he said, glancing at her and grinning. Lisa found herself grinning back, though her mind was screaming at her that she should stop being agreeable and go back to being the unwilling and miserable hostage. She decided that she was tired of being miserable and scared. She knew that Jackson wouldn't hurt her, at least not now. And if he tried it, she'd be ready. But there was no reason to be utterly miserable while they were out. As long as they were away from that building, and away from the people that were trying to hurt her, she was going to try and enjoy herself.

She knew it was crazy; after all she was a hostage and could very well be dead in the next twenty-four hours, but like she had said to Anthony in the car a few days ago; the whole hostage thing was starting to get old. She wanted to have fun, even though she knew by all rights, she shouldn't be.

Glancing at Jackson out of the corner of her eye, she realized with a jolt that she was actually enjoying the company.

* * *

Back at the Lux, Anthony was sitting in the lobby, watching Cynthia as she flirted with Dan, her co-worker. She was trying to avoid his advances, but he was very persistent. Anthony smiled to himself as he watched them. Dan was just trying to make her feel better. Poor kid had picked a bad time to try and get with her.

He turned around to grab his mug of coffee, which was in the middle of the four soft chairs that rested comfortably around it, when he saw that there was a man occupying the chair across from him. The man was older with white hair and piercing brown, almost black, eyes.

"Well, Meyers," he said in a voice that clearly expressed extreme disdain, his British accent strong. "I hear that you've got Rippner working for you now."

"Yes," Anthony said, nodding curtly and trying to hide the resentment in his tone. "What of it, Hillman?"

"Not only would Andropov be very displeased if he discovered your new employee…" Hillman said, arching an eyebrow at Anthony, "but he would definitely be very interested in receiving the information that an associate of mine uncovered about one Jackson Rippner."

Anthony felt his fists clench. He hated Hillman even worse than he hated Jackson, and it was for that reason that the natural instinct to defend Jackson arose in him at that moment. He got to his feet slowly, and Hillman copied the gesture, standing ramrod straight and at least a head higher than Anthony.

"Jackson Rippner doesn't bother to hide anything," he said carefully. "He never had to; everyone knows everything in this organization. Your associate couldn't have uncovered anything new."

"Oh, but he did," Hillman said with a chuckle that sent shivers down Anthony's spine. He tried to hide his discomfort and instead maintained the expression that he wore when he discovered that he had gum on his shoe.

"And what exactly would this information be?" he said with a bored sigh, though inwardly he was itching to read whatever Hillman had in that manilla folder clutched in his hands.

"See for yourself," Hillman said casually, sounding as if he didn't have a care in the world. With a dramatic flair, he gently tossed the folder onto the table, where it landed perfectly straight. Anthony resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and bent down to pick up the folder, sitting down in his chair carefully. He stared at the front for a moment before slowly opening it, and resting his eyes on the first sheet of paper in there.

As he read, his eyes grew wide, then wider.

"Oh my God," he whispered under his breath, slamming the folder closed and standing up to face Hillman, his expression one of fear.


	8. A Beautiful Lie

Hmmm…I'm not too sure about this chapter. I think it kind of moves quickly, maybe too quickly? Though I wanted the action to kind of pop up…I don't know. Tell me if you think it moves too fast!

Thirdly! Does anyone know a good free blog site? Because I want to make a blog that my readers can read, and can comment and have their one blogs and such. I think it would be cool :) I just need to find a good site!

Ummm…Yup, that's in! Please review, and all you who did review are the best people in existence. Your replies have probably come to you from the reply button by now :) Anonymous reviewers are down below!

**Blushing Sigh:** Nice Jackson is fun to write, though slightly hard, because I still have to make him Jacksonish! Fortunately, there will undoubtedly be much more nice Jackson to come! Haha, I was in a really depressed mood when I wrote the bit about Jackson thinking about his mother dancing, so it just came out. I read it later and was like 'whoa…sad!' And I agree that it's weird when Lisa and Jackson randomly decide to start making out. But don't worry, you won't see any of that in my story! They may seem like they're getting mucho closer, but the big inevitable hookup won't be for a while.

* * *

**Chapter 8: **A Beautiful Lie

_Lie awake in bed at night  
And think about your life  
Do you want to be different?  
Try to let go of the truth  
The battles of your youth  
Cuz this is just a game_

_It's** a beautiful lie**  
It's the perfect denial  
Such a beautiful lie to believe in  
So beautiful, beautiful it makes me_

_

* * *

_

"And what exactly would this information be?" Anthony asked with a bored sigh, though inwardly he was itching to read whatever Hillman had in that manilla folder held in his hands.

"See for yourself," Hillman said casually, sounding as if he didn't have a care in the world. With a dramatic flair, he gently tossed the folder onto the table, where it landed perfectly straight. Anthony resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and bent down to pick up the folder, sitting down in his chair carefully. He stared at the front for a moment before slowly opening it, and resting his eyes on the first sheet of paper in there.

As he read, his eyes grew wide, then wider.

"Oh my God," he whispered under his breath, slamming the folder closed and standing up to face Hillman.

* * *

Jackson pulled out Lisa's chair for her, and Lisa smiled at him graciously before sitting. Jackson pushed her in snugly, and smiled at the waitress charmingly before taking a seat across the table from Lisa and smiling at her through the candlelight. Lisa couldn't help but feel that this was slightly like a romantic dinner, and the thought scared her. If Jackson noticed her discomfort, he didn't show it.

"Get anything you want," he said to her in a kind voice that Lisa wasn't used to from him. She looked over the menu and decided that some alcohol sounded really good. Jackson saw her eyeing the beverages menu and chuckled to himself slightly before starting his surveillance of the room.

He observed every person in the small area, running through the countless images of dangerous people in his mind. He didn't see anyone who looked like someone he knew, nor did he see anyone suspicious looking. Surprisingly, he felt very at ease, and he even leaned back in his chair a bit, relaxing. Lisa ordered what she wanted from the waitress, and Jackson ordered his fettuccini alfredo with wine.

After the waitress left with a flirtatious sideways peek at Jackson, there was an awkward pause. Lisa and Jackson both had fake smiles plastered on their faces, like they were both determined to pretend to the other that they were having a marvelous time. Or maybe they were having a better time than they would have liked to admit, and were trying to convince themselves that they weren't by pretending to fake their smiles. Neither was sure which it was, and both were utterly lost and confused. It was a new feeling for Jackson, and one that was getting old with Lisa.

"What happens if they find me? My father, I mean," Lisa asked after a long pause, figuring that the only thing they hadn't really talked about regarding her kidnapping was the fact that maybe the police and her father would find the company.

"Then we evacuate quickly, and take you to another hideout," Jackson replied. "And we keep hiding you until they lose the trail."

"Meaning…" Lisa started, but Jackson finished for her.

"…that you'd have to be stuck with us for probably a much longer amount of time," he said. "Yeah."

"Great," Lisa said sarcastically. Jackson nodded.

"But you'll be safe," he reminded her offhand, as if trying to entice her into doing something. Probably enjoying herself.

"Relatively," Lisa said, making a face. Jackson chuckled and nodded begrudgingly.

"Relatively," he repeated in agreement. "Though things seem to be moving a bit more smoothly now."

"We can only hope," Lisa said, making a face. Jackson smiled at her and looked down at the tablecloth, examining the delicate pattern on it. While his eyes were averted, Lisa took the opportunity to examine him carefully. He looked nervous, almost. She hadn't noticed it earlier, perhaps because she was trying too hard to have a miserable time, but he looked almost afraid. Seeing Jackson afraid was probably one of the most frightening things in the world. Because if Jackson was afraid, then what was Lisa supposed to feel? Absolute and utter terror? She sighed and glanced down at the tablecloth once before looking back up, her curls swishing. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Jackson's head snapped up in an almost comical way, and his cold blue eyes met with hers.

"What?" he asked, as if the very thought of something ever being wrong with him was unthinkable.

"You look afraid," Lisa pressed, her eyes boring into his intensely. Jackson sighed and shook his head.

"It's nothing to concern yourself with," he said darkly. Lisa was surprised. Had Jackson Rippner just admitted that he was afraid? What was the world coming to?

"Are you sure?" Lisa asked doubtfully.

"Positive," Jackson responded automatically. Lisa sighed and turned back to her examination of the glass of water in front of her, as if it were an extremely important task. It was Jackson's turn to watch her this time, and again he looked afraid, though she wasn't watching to notice. Why he was afraid, he wasn't even sure. He was just afraid for Lisa all of a sudden. What had he dragged her into? The situation she was in was extremely dangerous, and she was in it because of him. It just wasn't fair.

Suddenly, Jackson hated himself for doing what he had been doing for the past years, and he wished that it could just be all over.

* * *

"What do you propose we do about this?" Anthony asked Hillman calmly, rubbing a hand over her eyes. Hillman shrugged and stood up, the cursed folder tucked under his arm.

"I simply wanted to bring this to your attention," Hillman replied. "I want this job done as much as you do, Meyers. I want Andropov happy and off our backs, because he's really starting to piss me off. And any threat to this job, and I mean any, must be taken care of."

The insinuating tone in his voice gave Anthony a thrill of fear.

"Are you really suggesting killing Rippner?" he asked incredulously.

"I'm merely giving you an idea. The idea I prefer, actually." Hillman started moving around the chairs, walking towards the front desk. He turned around and nodded to Anthony formally. "I'll be in touch."

With that, he continued walking out the door, and Anthony watched him go until he was outside in the streets and out of view, then he sat down with his head in his hands, closing his eyes and squeezing them shut against the headache that threatened to explode. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, and this new bit of information killed him. He knew he had to do something, but he didn't want to. After a long pause, he picked up the phone and dialed Jackson's cell.

* * *

Harrison was sitting on the recliner in Jackson's room, sleeping, when Jackson's cell phone began to ring from where it was resting on the table. Harrison's eyes opened groggily, and he muttered sleepily to himself before getting up and walking over to the table with his eyelids half-closed.

He picked up the phone and flipped open the cover, holding it to his ear and sniffling a little bit tiredly.

"Hello?" he mumbled.

"Harrison?" the other voice on the line responded with surprise. It was Anthony.

"MmHmm," Harrison replied, rubbing a hand over his forehead sleepily.

"Where's Jackson?" Anthony asked angrily.

"He went to take Lisa out for dinner," Harrison replied. "She wanted lasagna, and he didn't have any…or something."

"What?" Anthony asked in an angry hushed whisper that Harrison had a feeling would have been a shout if he wasn't in a place where he probably shouldn't be yelling.

"He took…"Harrison began again, but Harrison cut him off.

"I heard you the first time!" he snapped. Harrison sighed and decided not to say anything to that. He just waited for what Anthony would say, knowing that the other man would find something eventually. "When did he leave?"

"About an hour ago," Harrison replied.

"Do you know where they were going?" Anthony asked.

"No," Harrison replied. Anthony sighed.

"I'll be there in about twenty minutes," he said bitterly, as if the whole thing was somehow Harrison's fault. "You stay where you are!"

Anthony hung up the phone, and Harrison sighed and hung up as well, rolling his eyes.

"Not going anywhere," he muttered, not even wondering why Anthony had sounded so mad. He walked back over to the recliner and collapsed onto it tiredly, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep almost immediately.

* * *

Jackson and Lisa arrived back at the Insurance Agency a while later. Jackson spotted Anthony's crappy old Toyota next to his empty parking spot, and he frowned worriedly.

"What is it?" Lisa asked sensing that something was wrong.

"That's Anthony's car," he said absently, for once not sounding utterly repulsed and disgusted when he said the other man's name.

"Does that mean something bad happened?" Lisa asked worriedly, biting her lip and staring at the car as if it would give her all the answers.

"I don't know," Jackson replied in an unfocused voice. He got out of the car swiftly, and was at Lisa's door before she even had a chance to unbuckle her seatbelt. He pulled her out of the seat gently, his eyes still on Anthony's car warily as he tucked Lisa's arm through his, escorting her towards the front door of the building. Lisa was about to ask him what was wrong when he spoke. "Lisa, you have to listen to me carefully. If something happens, something…bad…I need you to run. Run out here, get in the car, and get the hell out of here."

"What?" Lisa asked incredulously. Jackson handed her the keys solemnly, and she gave him a look filled with dread, suddenly feeling the urge to move closer to him, as if to protect him. "What do you think is going to happen?" she asked with a kind of terrible awe.

"I don't know," Jackson answered, but it was clear by his tone that he knew exactly what was going on.

They walked into the lobby, and Jackson tossed a forced smile at the secretary, who smiled back. Once he was safely past her, the smile faded, and he ran a hand through his hair, sighing grimly. Lisa felt seriously afraid, and she found herself gripping Jackson's arm with her hand tightly, as if holding him in place.

"What about the clothes?" she asked, remembering suddenly that they were back in the trunk of the car. Jackson gave her a knowing look, and her heart rate quickened. Something was going to happen. Something bad. Just great.

They got into the elevator, and as it climbed slowly to the top, she found herself feeling like it was taking her closer and closer to what she could only describe as her doom. Though there was no need to stick by Jackson's side in the otherwise empty car, she stayed by him, her hand on his arm and his arm through hers. Apparently, he felt like he needed the closeness as much as she did. That was just another sign that things were going very wrong.

"Remember," Jackson said, his eyes taking on a hard glint as he adjusted his jacket. "If anything happens, run."

"Run," Lisa repeated, feeling slightly lightheaded. She wondered what he meant by 'if anything happens'. "Why don't we just go now?"

"I'm not sure that anything's wrong yet," Jackson answered.

"Well, why take the chance?" Lisa asked.

"Because if nothing is wrong, and we leave, then we're going to be in deep shit."

Lisa sighed and followed him out the elevator doors and into the crowded area with the cubicles, past the kind woman from earlier, and to Jackson's door. Drawing Lisa behind him protectively, he slowly turned the knob, frowning when it turned effortlessly and the door slid open. He pushed it open fully with his foot tentatively. Harrison and Anthony sat on opposite sides of the room, facing each other and looking decidedly pissed off. When Jackson pushed the door open, they both looked up. Anthony looked even more pissed off. Harrison looked utterly relieved.

"Rippner," Anthony said dangerously, his upper lip curling into a snarl. Lisa turned to her left and saw Ben creeping out from behind the door, a purposeful gleam in his eye. Lisa pulled Jackson's arm wordlessly, and he turned to look at her, glancing right at Ben in the process. Startled, but ready, he yanked Lisa behind him and whipped out a knife from seemingly nowhere. Lisa backed up against the wall, resisting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut.

"What's all this, Anthony?" Jackson said darkly. "Where's Cynthia?"

"She's back at the Lux," Anthony said with surprising casualness. "I just came back here to ask you a few questions."

"You could have asked me over the phone," Jackson said, starting to breathe heavily as his eyes flickered from Ben to Anthony. Lisa kept her eyes on Anthony firmly. Harrison remained seated, looking very confused and tired.

"I wanted to talk to you in person," Anthony said, grinning darkly with an expression that Lisa didn't like. "But not here. Let's go into my office. Ben can stay here and keep an eye on Lisa."

"I'd rather have Harrison watching her," Jackson said with a stony glare in Anthony's direction. Ben chuckled to himself slightly.

"And I'd rather have Ben watching her," Anthony replied, and suddenly he pulled a gun out of his front pocket. To Lisa's surprise, rather than pointing the gun at Jackson, Anthony pointed it at her.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jackson asked dangerously.

"Just making sure you don't do anything stupid," Anthony replied. "You know, it's sad…there used to be a time when you didn't care about anyone except yourself."

"I care about this job," Jackson growled convincingly. "And if you shoot her, you're fucking it up.

"Oh, don't get cute with me," Anthony said, rolling his eyes. "Ben."

Ben stepped forward towards Jackson, and Anthony got to his feet, moving over towards Lisa with the gun trained on her. She felt her face drain of color, and she glanced at Jackson helplessly. Anthony moved until he was standing right in front of Lisa, the gun almost touching her forehead, and Jackson scowled before dropping the knife to the floor. Without a moment to waste, Ben's knee jammed up into Jackson's gut, and he fell to the floor, grabbing his stomach tightly.

"Let's go, Rippner," Anthony said darkly. "Get up. Ben, stay here with Lisa and Harrison."

Lisa glanced at Harrison. He was looking at Jackson fearfully. Jackson glanced at Lisa once before staggering to his feet and walking out of the room without a second glance back. Anthony tucked the gun into his pocket and followed after him, slamming the door and leaving Lisa alone with Ben and Harrison.

There was a long and awkward silence, in which Lisa stared at Ben with fear in her eyes. His nose was still swollen a purplish blue, and he was glaring at her like he wanted to murder her. Lisa found herself hoping that that was all he wanted to do.

She thought about moving over to sit beside Harrison, but she was afraid to move. Some part of her thought that if she moved, she would be risking Ben's anger. It was like every second she remained absolutely still, she gained another moment of precious time.

Suddenly, she heard yelling through the wall to her right, she glanced over at it, at the far corner of the room, and heard a thump. A loud one. She bit her lip nervously. Did that count as bad? She thought so. The yelling stopped, and there was silence. Definitely bad. Bad meant that she had to get the hell out of there. She could feel the keys in her pocket, and she took a deep, uncertain breath.

Her eyes fell on the knife, which still rested on the ground at Ben's feet. Ben was too busy looking at the wall from which the noise came to notice, so Lisa dove for it. She landed on the ground on her knees, her hand wrapping around the knife and bringing it up before Ben even had the chance to turn around. When he did turn around, she overcame the part of her that didn't want to hurt anyone, and she brought the knife to slash at his ankles.

Ben let out a yell and fell to the ground. Harrison leapt to his feet, looking horrified. Lisa grabbed the desk chair and brought it crashing down on Ben with a scream of rage as the yelling in the other room started up again, drowning out the noise. When Lisa was positive that Ben was knocked out, she turned to face Harrison.

"I can't let you leave," he said in a hushed voice, looking pained.

"Harrison, you know it's all falling to pieces, now," Lisa said desperately as Harrison took a step towards her, looking just as frightened as she was. She didn't want to hurt him.

"They'll kill me if I let you go," he said fearfully. "They'll kill my family. My girlfriend. I can't let them hurt her."

Lisa felt tears creeping to her eyes. She couldn't kill Harrison. Imagining the look on his girlfriend's face as she was told that her beloved boyfriend was dead was too horrible. She couldn't do it. Instead, she picked up the chair, which was heavier than it looked, and threw it at him with all her might, knocking him over, before opening the door and running out of the room.

As soon as she ran out into the open, the fire alarm went off. Down the hall, she heard people screaming, and she took off towards them, still carrying the bloody knife, cursing her luck. It figured that this would all have go to down when there was a fire.

"Sweetie! Where's your husband?" the kind woman from earlier asked as she ran towards Lisa, breathing heavily. When she saw the knife clutched in Lisa's hand, her eyes widened in shock. "Mrs. Allen!"

"I'm not Mrs. Allen," Lisa said, pulling the woman into a cubicle and storing the knife under the desk. People hurried past them, not even glancing in their direction. "I'm Lisa Reisert, and when you get out of here, you have to call the police and tell them where I am."

"Lisa Reisert?" the woman said slowly, as if she had heard the name before and just couldn't place it.

"That man…Anthony Meyers kidnapped me," Lisa said, trying not to let her frustration show.

"You were the girl on the news!" the woman exclaimed breathlessly. Lisa nodded vehemently.

"Go!" she exclaimed. The woman turned and ran, and soon Lisa was the only one in the large room, as the stairwells echoed with retreating footsteps and fearful voices. The smell of smoke was growing stronger. Lisa changed her mind and decided that there couldn't have been a better time for a fire.

She started to creep out from behind the cubicle wall, but then her eyes rested on Ben, who was just coming out of Jackson's room. She ducked back into the cubicle, her breathing heavy, as she grabbed the knife and held it ready. But Ben walked straight past her, and she heard the stairwell door open and close, and heard his echoing footsteps moving up the stairs.

Creeping out from behind the wall, she looked down both hallways, and slowly inched her way towards the stairs, listening for any sound of movement. Just as she had assumed that everything was safe, the yelling in Anthony's room started up again. She froze as the words came floating across the otherwise silent room towards her.

"Don't you fucking lie to me, Rippner. Your associate, Anderson, told Hillman everything."

Lisa glanced towards the stairs, but couldn't resist waiting to hear what Anthony had to say.

"There's nothing to tell," Jackson replied in a loud, but strangely calm, tone.

"Yeah fucking right!" Anthony yelled. "You know how much deep shit I'm going to be in if Hillman goes to Andropov? Not only did I hire Jackson Rippner, the guy who orchestrated the biggest fuck up in the history of the organization, but I hired Jackson Rippner, the man who was planning on fucking bailing out his charge!"

"You think I'd protect her?" Jackson asked incredulously. "You think I'd risk everything to protect her? Come on, Meyers! We were friends once, remember? Does that sound like me?"

"No," Anthony replied in a quieter voice. "It doesn't sound like you. None of this fucking sounds like you! You've changed! You're risking it all to help the girl who shot you and put a pen through your neck! Now what I wanna know is why the fuck I shouldn't kill you right now for being a traitor to this organization."

"Because it's all a bullshit," Jackson said, but for once, Lisa could detect in his voice…a lie. A beautiful, beautiful lie. He really had been planning on protecting her. He hadn't wanted to take her to Anthony at all. He had been surprised, and had reacted to save his ass like anyone would. But not only was he saving his ass, but he was saving her ass as well. If he had continued to attempt to protect her, then he probably would have ended up dead, and if they hadn't taken her with them, to that Gremmont man, then they would have probably killed her, too.

Lisa had never felt so conflicted, especially regarding Jackson. Things with Jackson used to be black and white; he was a horrible man and nothing was going to change. But recently things had been in the gray area regarding him. Now, as she heard that lie in his voice, she entertained the notion, for the first time, that maybe Jackson wasn't so far black as she thought.

She didn't know what to do. Did she leave Jackson where he was, to deal with Anthony by himself, of did she go back and save him like he tried to save her? Lisa was certainly all for returning the favor, but she wasn't sure what she could do. She did have Jackson's knife, however, and might be able to somehow help him out.

As she was standing there, undecided, Harrison appeared out of Jackson's room, rubbing his neck painfully and looking extremely pissed off. She froze and stared at him, and he stared back, apparently unsure.

"Don't do this," she said in a low voice, trying to sound somewhat intimidating. "I don't want to hurt you, Harrison."

"They're going to kill my girlfriend," Harrison said in a pleading voice. "I love her, Lisa. You don't understand…they've threatened her before. They'll hurt her."

"Not if you go to her, now," Lisa said pleadingly. "You can help her. You can get out of all this."

"You can't do this to me, Lisa," Harrison said, looking like he was ready to break down and cry. "Lisa, you've seen how they can work. They won't stop…they won't…"

He sighed and hung his head, running his hand through his hair.

"Go to her," Lisa said with conviction. Harrison looked up at her, and his eyes were haunted.

"If she dies," he said, sounding wooden. "If anything happens to her, and I mean anything, I am going to find you. And I won't even hesitate before killing you."

Lisa felt extremely guilty as Harrison turned and ran down towards the staircase through the gathering smoke. She hoped that nothing happened to his girlfriend. He obviously cared about her a great deal.

The yelling in the other room brought her back to reality, and all thoughts of Harrison were pushed to the back of her mind as there was a loud thumping noise. She sighed and turned to run down the hallway, into the smoke, where she could just barely make out someone standing next to the elevator.

"Get out of here!" she yelled, coughing, assuming that it was just a worker. They didn't move. Lisa took a faltering step forward, bringing the knife out slowly from behind her back. "Hello?"

The figure walked forward, and Lisa saw with horror he was holding a gun. She had never seen the man before. He was tall and maybe in his late forties with white hair and a determined glint in his icy eyes.

"Ms. Reisert," he said in a crisp English accent, his eyes narrowing. "How charming to meet you. I must say, you're far lovelier than your picture."

Lisa backed away with fright and turned around to run down the hallway, but froze when she saw that the smoke was thicker there. Did that mean that the fire had come from down there? If she ran down that hallway, she was going to run right into the fire.

Instead, she turned around to face the man in front of her again, steeling herself.

"Who are you?" she asked darkly.

"You can call me Hillman," the man said, bowing his head slightly in a very formal greeting.

"Did you start this fire?" Lisa asked suspiciously with sudden insight. Hillman chuckled.

"Very intuitive, Ms. Reisart," Hillman said. "Mr. Rippner was certainly smart in wanting to protect you. I daresay the man knew what he was doing. Too bad it all fell to pieces."

Someone who hated Jackson. Perfect. Did anyone in the organization like Jackson? How was he the 'favorite' if no one even liked him?

"I highly doubt he was trying to protect me," Lisa answered, trying to appear as calm as she could. She knew she could pull off a lie; she was good at lying. It was the fear that her lie would be discovered that she had to worry about. After all, her father's anticipated disappointment, or the prospect of a customer's sour attitude if she was caught lying was nothing compared to what she was facing at the moment. This man had a gun; this man could kill her in a second and wouldn't think twice if he discovered she was lying. Not that telling him that she didn't think Jackson was protecting her was really lying. It was just withholding information. Kind of.

"And why do you doubt that?" Hillman asked, arching an eyebrow in a very Jackson-like gesture. It pissed Lisa off, and she found that her knuckles tightened on the handle of the knife carefully.

"Me and Jackson don't really have a loving relationship," Lisa said in what she hoped was an amused smile. She gave him a look that was supposed to read 'you know what I mean?' "In fact, last I saw of him, he was walking out of the room with Anthony after actually hitting me." She gestured to her face, where a red mark still remained from when Ben had hit her during the video. Hillman looked at it with very little interest.

"Maybe your relationship isn't loving," he said, as if mocking her for her word choice. "But nonetheless, he was trying to protect you. I'm not altogether certain why, but his intentions…"

"Why do you think this?" Lisa asked, growing tired of him speaking. Normally she enjoyed listening to English accents, but this guy was pushing it. "What's your proof?"

"Jackson's associate told me," Hillman said simply. "He wrote out a full confession, turned in audio files from his phone…the whole deal."

Though Lisa had just lost whatever ground she had had in the little argument, she couldn't help but feel a little bit of happiness. So it was completely certain that Jackson hadn't meant to drag her into all of this. She was surprised, definitely, but now that it was proven, she knew that she had to help him.

Feeling the nervous butterflies already starting in her stomach, she took a step backwards, and Hillman followed her. She stopped, pretending to be afraid.

"Okay, so maybe he was trying to protect me," she said reasonably, moving backwards a tiny bit, unnoticed by Hillman. "Though I'm certainly as uncertain about his motives on that one…" she snorted and pretended to be amused, rolling her eyes slightly. Hillman's rough face showed the traces of a smile. "But even so…why kill me?"

"Oh, I can't kill you," Hillman said, as if the very idea were absurd.

"What?" Lisa asked, pretending to be surprised and relieved, as she inched back another half step. Hillman still didn't notice, and Lisa thanked God for the smoke.

"You're worth too much to the organization, Ms. Reisert. Why do you think there was such an uproar when we found out that Jackson was trying to steal you from us? We need you, and we're not going to let you our of our clutches that easily."

For some reason, the prospect of being needed by the organization was even more frightening than the thought of him just outright killing her, and she froze in place for a moment. She was afraid to move, but then she realized that if she ran…he wasn't going to shoot her. In fact, he couldn't shoot her. He needed her.

With that in mind, she turned and sprinted back and around the corner of the cubicles. Hillman fired, and the bullet grazed her arm. She swore at her stupidity and nearly fell, but managed to keep her footing, and took a turn into the maze of cubicles. The aisles didn't really have any order, and within moments, Lisa had lost herself in it. She heard Hillman moving along furiously, and she grabbed the knife firmly in her hands, looking around frantically for a way out.

She happened to look down at the ground, and she saw with horror that she was leaving a trail of blood on the white carpet. She swore again and looked around frantically before getting an idea. She hurriedly walked to the end of the row of cubicles, making sure to leave a trail of her blood. Then, she took off her sweatshirt and held it against her wound, making sure that no blood fell on the ground. Then, she walked back a few steps and went down another aisle, dropping the sweatshirt and clutching her knife tightly as she waited for him to follow, pressed against the wall.

"You can't get away from me!" he yelled, sounding close now. "You might want to look at the ground, Ms. Reisert. You're leaving me a rather handy trail."

Lisa squeezed her eyes shut as she heard his footsteps approaching on the carpet. He was close now. She ducked into the cubicle and waited, peering out from behind it. He walked along the trail, not bothering to look down the aisle, and she crept out after him, raising the knife above her head.

She brought it crashing down into his back with a force that surprised him, gagging as she felt the sharpened blade crunch through the bones of his spine. Hillman screamed loudly, not bothering to even try to fight her as he fell to the ground, probably paralyzed. She wasn't sure, but she wasn't going to stick around and find out. She grabbed the knife out of his back, picked up her sweatshirt and his gun, and ran.

She ran blindly through the smoke, not sure where she was going and not even sure if she was going in the right direction. The blood trail she had left helped her somewhat, but as she got closer and closer to the beginning, it became more and more sparse. She turned to look over her shoulder, half-expecting to see Hillman emerging from the smoke after her. But there was no one there.

When she turned to face the front again, she saw that there was a figure walking steadily through the smoke, holding a hand to his face to avoid the smoke. She ducked into a cubicle, deciding that it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Hello?" the voice called. "Hillman?"

Lisa was paralyzed with fear. The voice belonged to Ben, and he was coming closer. She wasn't sure if he had seen her or not, but she didn't want to take the chance that he would find her. She rocketed out of the cubicle, shooting back where she had come from. She barely heard Ben's shout of surprise as she ignored the burning sensation in her lungs caused by the smoke, and the pain in her arm, and continued to run as fast se she could push herself to. She took a sharp right as it appeared out of the smoke, almost falling in her haste, and nearly dropping the knife in the process. She managed to keep her footing, thankfully, and she sprinted down the aisle, out into the open once again.

She listened carefully, but didn't hear any movement from within the hazy maze of cubicles. She decided that she should probably get out of there before Ben found the way out, though she had a feeling that it wouldn't be an easy feat for him. She pulled the gun out of her pocket, where she had stuffed it carefully, and got it ready as she approached the closed door of Anthony's room, where it sounded like there was a struggle going on.

She was hit with a sudden wave of doubt as she listened to that. Should she just get out of there and leave Jackson to whatever fate awaited him? After all, it wasn't like she owed anything to him. Though he may have been attempting to protect her, she wasn't even completely positive of that. What if he really hadn't been going to protect her? What if Anthony and Hillman were both mistaken? What if she just wanted to think that Jackson's intentions were good because she was trying too hard to see something in him that just wasn't there?

She glanced back towards the cubicles indecisively, biting her lower lip in an unconscious imitation of Jackson.

"Put the fucking gun down, Anthony!" yelled Jackson from behind the door suddenly, and Lisa's head swiveled towards the sound with her eyes widening with fright.

"I should have done this a long time ago," Anthony replied, and then the silence of the room was broken by the ear-shattering, heart-rending gunshot that followed.


	9. A Quiet Desperation's Building Higher

Ugh….horrible mood. Looong story though. You can read it on my Xanga if you care. same name as here. Bleh. Thought I'd update to get my mind off of things.

Please review and make my day better :)

Trentaholic…the one bright spot in my day…im going to see 30stm in concert! December 7th at Lupos Heartbreak Hotel in Providence, Rhode Island! I'm so excited! And I'm going with a few friends aaand the kid I like!

* * *

**Chapter 9:** A Quiet Desperation's Building Higher 

_Everyone's looking at me  
I'm running around in circles, baby.  
****__A quiet desperation's building higher  
__I've got to remember this is just a game._

_So beautiful, beautiful…  
It's a beautiful lie  
So beautiful, beautiful…  
It's the perfect denial  
So beautiful, beautiful…  
Such a beautiful lie to believe in  
So beautiful, beautiful it makes me _

30 Seconds to Mars  
A Beautiful Lie_  
_

* * *

"Put the fucking gun down, Anthony!" yelled Jackson from behind the door suddenly, and Lisa's head swiveled towards the sound with her eyes widening with fright. 

"I should have done this a long time ago," Anthony replied, and then the silence of the room was broken by the ear-shattering, heart-rending gunshot that followed.

* * *

In the moment after the gunshot rang out, all time seemed to freeze in place. The smoke stopped rolling, and Lisa felt like she was moving in slow motion as her fingers lost all feeling, and the knife slipped out of her hands, crashing to the floor soundlessly. The door twenty feet in front of her was blank and unmoving, and for some reason that frightened her. It was like she expected something to happen; something good or bad that would decide what her next move would be. 

The reason that it frightened her so much when nothing happened was because now she had to make her own decision. She had to decide what was more important to her. Would she risk her life to save a man who she barely knew, and who, for a time, had come very close to killing both she and her father? Or would she run down the stairs, out of the burning building, and back into the arms of her family and Cynthia? She was scared out of her mind, especially since she realized that she wasn't really sure which one she should pick.

She was so used to having decisions made for her in this type of situation. Either she was told what to do, and she did it, or her conscience told her to go against what she was told to do, so she didn't do it. There was no one telling her what to do this time; she had to make the call and fast, before it was too late…if it wasn't too late already.

The thought that maybe it was already too late was what eventually made the call for Lisa. The remembrance of that dream she had the night before, when Jackson had been lying on the bed full of bullet holes, was enough to make her decide that she needed to help him.

She fumbled with the gun in her hands, her fingers numb and lifeless and impossible to move. Shaking and trying hard to keep the frustrated tears from falling, she managed to get the gun ready for firing, and she prepared herself as she picked up the knife and walked slowly towards Anthony's door, steeling herself for what she was going to have to do. She was going to have to shoot a man, but she wouldn't let herself think about that. She wouldn't allow herself to be deterred by that. She had already done enough damage to enough human bodies that day to get over her squeamishness regarding whatever morals she possessed before meeting Jackson.

Taking a deep breath, and trying not to choke on the smoke, which was really beginning to roll out of the hallway now, she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob and turned it slowly, praying that it would be open. When it turned effortlessly under her fingers, she sighed with relief, but readied herself with the air of a professional, sliding the knife through one of her side belt loops so she wouldn't have to hold it. Her sweatshirt, she dropped on the floor, and once she was certain that she had prepared herself enough, she kicked open the door.

* * *

Harrison stood outside, holding his head in his hands and looking up at the building with the rest of the workers, who were whispering frantically to each other. The secretary had called the fire department a few minutes ago, but so far there hadn't been any sign of them. Harrison still hadn't seen Lisa exiting the building, and neither Jackson nor Anthony had been spotted. 

"Has anyone seen Mr. Allen?" asked the secretary, Gwen Delory, to no one in particular, sounding worried. "Or his wife?"

Harrison didn't reply, just stared at the front door with a heavy heart. He knew that if he turned his back on the organization now, he was putting himself and Adriana at great risk. He didn't mind risking his own life so much, but the thought that his girlfriend could get hurt was just too much for him to bear.

Still, he had known all along that just by being with her, he setting this up to happen. This new development just put an added, unwanted, stress on the whole thing. He felt torn, and he stood there undecided, but he knew all along which he was going to pick. He just couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't let them rule his life and threaten the only person in his life that ever meant something to him; who had ever loved him. He couldn't let them control him like that.

He wished that he could take back what he said to Lisa in the building, that he would kill her if anything happened to Adriana. Because now he realized that it wasn't her fault. He had made his own decision in leaving her there, alive. And he knew now that his threat was an empty one. If anything happened to Adriana, he wouldn't live long enough to find Lisa and kill her. He knew that it was weak and cowardly, but Adriana was everything to him.

With that thought in mind, his last tie of loyalty towards the organization was severed, and he turned and walked slowly towards his car, his hands shoved into his pockets and his head hanging low. As one final defiance towards Anthony and the others in the organization who had kept him trapped for so long, he said a silent prayer to a God he had nearly abandoned, asking him to keep Jackson and Lisa safe.

Then he got into his car and drove away without another look back, ready to restart his life.

* * *

Lisa didn't hesitate a moment after kicking the door open. She raised the gun in the way she had always seen policemen do in movies; both hands clutching the weapon and her arms straight out in front of her. Anthony, who was kneeling beside Jackson, leapt to his feet, grabbing at his own gun, which lay on the floor. Lisa felt a stab of fear, and she pulled the trigger without thinking, letting out a little yelp as the gunshot pierced the air. 

Anthony clutched his shoulder and fell back onto the bed, his mouth open, screaming soundlessly. She had hit him close to the heart, and she felt an odd stab of something like pride as his eyes slid closed. She wasn't sure if he was dead or not, but she didn't care at the moment. Oh, she knew that she would later, but for now there were other things to take care of.

Jackson was lying face down in a pool of blood, still and unmoving. She took a deep, fearful breath, and she moved towards him and started to kneel down beside him. When she did, he stirred slightly, and she let out a sigh of relief, which she didn't know she had been holding in.

He sat up, holding his left shoulder and wincing. When he saw who it was that was standing in front of him, his eyebrows rose in surprise.

"I have to say," he said in a hoarse voice. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Who were you expecting, then?" Lisa asked, smirking.

"Anyone else," Jackson said with a snort. "I expected you to be halfway home by now."

"Yeah, well, I had some setbacks, and then I heard Anthony's accusations and decided I should probably help you out."

"I appreciate it," Jackson said wryly.

Suddenly, his expression turned into one of fear as he looked over her shoulder. She whirled around, the gun already in her hands, and fired as she saw Anthony struggling to his feet. Then she fired again, and then a third time just for good measure. Anthony landed on the bed, blood already pooling, in an eerie recreation of her dream. She stared at him with horror. She was certain, now, that he was dead. She had killed a man; she had raised the gun and fired, knowing that she was going to kill him. She had wanted to kill him.

She didn't realize how long she had been standing there for before Jackson gently reached out and touched her on the shoulder, bringing her back to reality. She turned to face him, and she realized that she was crying.

"You just killed your first man," Jackson said with some sort of pride. "Well…your first intentionally, anyway."

That was right; her first was that man standing in front of her father's house when she had crashed into it. She hadn't intended to kill him, though, and Jackson recognized that.

"I may have killed someone else," she said, thinking of Hillman. "Some guy started shooting at me." She gestured to her arm. "So I ran and left him a trail to follow, then hid and stabbed him in the back."

She indicated the knife that was currently hanging at her side, covered in blood. Jackson's eyebrows raised yet again, this time higher.

"I'm impressed," he remarked, nodding. "Anyone else I should know about?"

"I slashed at Ben's ankles," Lisa admitted. "But he's out there in the cubicles somewhere now."

"Well then we should probably get moving," Jackson said. He walked over to the desk drawer and opened it, pulling out a thick envelope. He handed it to Lisa and then moved over to Anthony, rifling through his pockets for something. He pulled out the man's wallet, and took out a bunch of money. Lisa peered into the envelope and saw that there was more there.

"Why so much?" she asked. Jackson shrugged.

"Anthony never liked banks," he said. "Doesn't trust them, so he keeps the money in here."

Lisa glanced back towards the open doorway worriedly. It was so smoky out there that she couldn't see anything, and the smoke was pouring into the room, almost like it was filling up with water. It was strangely beautiful, but she knew she had to get them out of there.

"Come on," she said, gesturing to him. "In case you hadn't noticed, the building's on fire. We need to get out of here."

Jackson nodded and bent down to pick up Anthony's gun, which he pocketed and followed Lisa out into the hallway. She picked up her sweatshirt, throwing it over her arm, and held the gun at ready as they moved swiftly down the hallway.

"Hey!" someone yelled out of the smoky darkness behind them. Lisa and Jackson both whirled around, and Jackson pulled Lisa behind him instinctively. A figure emerged out of the darkness, moving towards them, and they both noticed at the same instant that it was Ben.

"Run!" Jackson yelled, grabbing Lisa's arm and pulling her along after her as they sprinted down the hallway, moving at a pace that Lisa didn't know she could manage.

"Quick!" Lisa yelled, pulling open the door to the stairway. But before she could get it open, Ben slammed into it, pulling it from her hands and slamming it closed as he grabbed her and pressed a knife to her throat.

"Don't move," he said with an angry growl to Jackson. Jackson froze halfway through the process of raising the gun and swore angrily. "Put it down."

Jackson gave Lisa a helpless look and dropped the gun. Ben shoved Lisa out of the way, slamming her against the wall, and rushed towards Jackson, shoving his knee into the other man's gut again. Jackson grabbed Ben by the neck and drew back his arm and punched the other man in the broken nose. Ben howled in pain and grabbed at his nose as blood started to gush out. Jackson dove to the floor to retrieve Anthony's gun, but Ben was quicker and kicked Jackson in the shoulder, right where he had been shot. It was the first time that Lisa had ever heard Jackson make any sort of noise of pain. He hollered hoarsely, and Lisa couldn't hold back a scream.

Desperately, she grabbed at the fire extinguisher, which showed brightly through the smoke. Swinging it viciously at the back of Ben's head, she nearly fell over when it connected with a hard thump, repelling it and throwing her arms back. Ben hit the ground hard, and she slammed it over his head again, making sure that he stayed down before she ran over to Jackson, who was just starting to sit up, grasping at his shoulder and grimacing with pain.

"Come on!" she exclaimed, pulling him to his feet with a lack of patience that was normally associated with Jackson and not herself. "Let's go!"

He staggered to her feet, and she supported him as they bolted towards the door, past the already-stirring Ben. She yanked the door open and shoved Jackson in, then followed him and slammed the door behind them. Jackson by now had pulled himself together and was running down the stairs.

"Let's move!" he yelled to her with some annoyance. She tried to suppress her own irritation and hurried down after him, soon catching up to him. When they were a few floors down, heading down to the fourth, they heard the door on the seventh floor fly open.

"Shit," Lisa muttered, and she and Jackson both sped up, moving down the stairs at a decidedly dangerous pace, especially considering that they were both injured.

"This way," Jackson said, grabbing her hand in a familiarly possessive gesture, pulling her through the third floor door and pulling it closed quietly. He glanced up and down the hallway, coughing and bringing his arm to his mouth to cover it. The smoke was quite heavy here.

"Where are the firemen?" Lisa wondered aloud, coughing as well. "Shouldn't they be here by now?"

"Not if the fire was set by someone in the organization," Jackson replied, sounding bitter. "They would have had all the calls forwarded to a fake."

"Perfect," Lisa choked out. Jackson started running again, pulling Lisa along after her by her hand. She followed him wordlessly, though she noticed that they were running into the smoke. It was getting harder and harder to see, and Lisa was positive that she wasn't imagining the heat.

Still, she followed him. Though it was getting hotter and hotter, she still couldn't see a fire, but she was certain it was nearby. Just as she was beginning to think Jackson was deliberately leading them into the fire, he took a sharp right, and they were on a smaller staircase.

"Hurry!" he yelled, though she was keeping up with him quite well. They managed to get down the stairs in record time, though Lisa slipped once, and they were soon to the first floor door.

It was sweltering by this time, and Lisa knew as soon as Jackson put his hand on the doorknob that the fire was nearby. He pulled open the door, and took an involuntary step back as the fire practically leapt at him. Lisa resisted the urge to scream, only because she thought her lungs would burst if she did.

She thought that they would have to go back up the stairs, but Jackson didn't seem to want to take the time. He just pulled Lisa behind him as he ran straight through the fire.

Lisa felt like her skin was burning off, but she couldn't cry out. Just as she thought she was going to die, she burst into mercifully cold air, and she realized that they were outside. Before she could help herself, she had collapsed onto the ground. She had thought that she was going to be rebuked by Jackson, and had already fashioned a quick comeback, but then she noticed that he was sitting on the ground as well, breathing heavily. His jacket was singed and smoking, and his cheek had an angry red burn on it, but other than that, it didn't appear that he was touched by the fire at all. Lisa looked down at her skin and saw that other than a few red marks, she was fine. She looked back up at him, sighing.

"I can't believe you," she said, shaking her head. Jackson mustered the energy to smirk at her. She stood up shakily. "Stay here. I'll bring the car around back."

Jackson nodded.

"Take your time," he said, lying down with a plop. She shook her head and smiled again, feeling giddy. They had actually made it out of there. She wasn't sure how they had done it, but they had.

She jogged around the corner of the building. There were a few people standing there, but other than that they had all migrated farther away, to the back of the parking lot. She looked around for Ben, but didn't see him, and she jogged over to Jackson's car, taking the keys out of her pocket and opening the door. Ignoring the odd stares that she was getting, (after all, she had a gash in her arm and was covered in blood, and had a bloody knife attached to the back of her jeans) she slid into the car, making sure to avoid getting blood on the seats by putting the knife in her sweatshirt in the backseat. Just as she had started the car, Ben burst from the front door, spotting her and running towards her with a murderous glint in his eye. She screamed with surprise and put the car into reverse, backing out of the parking spot with a skill that she didn't know she possessed.

He was nearing the car, so she pressed the lock button. He slammed into the passenger side door and slammed his fist furiously on the window. She put the car into drive and sped off, shaking already. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw that he was following her.

"Shit!" she swore loudly, unlocking the car door and pushing sixty as she squealed around the corner of the building, to where Jackson was standing and leaning against the wall. Lucky for her, he was a very intuitive man, and he deduced that she was driving recklessly fast for a reason. As soon as she screeched to a stop in front of him, he threw open the door and jumped in before she could even say anything. He glanced behind the car. Ben was running around the corner of the building after them.

"Shit!" Jackson exclaimed. "Go!"

"I'm going!" Lisa yelled, slamming her foot on the gas and shooting forward, leaving Ben far behind.

* * *

They pulled out into the road, and Lisa took a deep breath and started to slow down. 

"No, no, no, don't slow down," Jackson said irritably. "You have to keep going. He's going to get a car, and he's going to come after us!"

"Then we get pulled over by the police. Perfect plan," Lisa said sarcastically.

"It's better than being caught by Ben. Trust me," Jackson said, rolling his eyes. Lisa just took a right, driving only a little faster than the speed limit. Jackson ground his teeth. "I'm telling you, you need to go faster!"

Lisa sighed and took another right, off of the main road and into a side street. They passed a row of suburban houses and then she took a left, onto a long but narrow street.

"You think he's going to find us in here?" she asked. "Let him try."

She drove faster than she should have, admittedly, especially considering there were cars parked on both sides of the road, and the road was narrow enough already, but she decided that she had a good reason. She took another right at the end of the road, onto a slightly more busy street. Then she drove straight, picking up her speed a tiny bit.

"Do you know where you're going?" he asked her.

"Not really," Lisa admitted. "Where am I supposed to be going?"

Lisa could tell that Jackson didn't like having her drive his car. He was clenching his hands into fists nervously and breathing heavily. Of course, that could also have to do with the fact that he had just been shot.

"Keep going straight," he muttered. "I'll tell you when to turn."

"We going someplace where we can get your wound checked out?" Lisa asked, her tone a little less harsh than before. She even looked at him with something like concern.

"Yeah," Jackson said. "Somewhere the organization doesn't know about."

He started taking off his jacket, and Lisa turned to face the road again. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and winced as she saw the blood on his white shirt.

"How did that not kill you?" she asked him, eyebrows raised. Jackson smirked and shrugged, tucking a necklace that he was wearing back into his shirt.

"I was just as surprised as you were," he remarked. "Then again, Anthony's always been a terrible shot. Even worse than me. You, on the other hand…wow."

Lisa turned and smiled at Jackson, letting a small laugh escape her.

"It wasn't that hard of a shot to make," she said modestly.

"Tell that to Anthony," Jackson replied with a snort. "He was closer, and he still missed the heart."

Lisa grinned and shook her head, turning to face the road once again as Jackson opened the front of his shirt and started poking at the bullet hole.

"Oh my God, Jackson!" she said, disgusted. "Stop that!"

"Just drive," Jackson said with a chuckle. Lisa let a laugh out as well, though it was a strained one.

"It's a little hard to focus when you're poking at it! What if someone sees you?"

"Oh please, even if they do see me, they're not going to care. No one notices anything these days."

"What if it's one of your saints?" Lisa asked. Jackson looked at her quizzically. "You know, the three types of people? What if it's one of those few people who are the saints."

"Oh, you mean like you," Jackson said. "What if someone like you sees me…well, they'll probably just figure I deserve it anyway."

Lisa laughed and shook her head.

"Sounds about right," she said.

"Or," Jackson continued thoughtfully. "They'll be so attracted to me, they won't even notice the blood.

"You wish," Lisa laughed, still feeling so giddy with happiness at getting out of that building that she didn't even realize who she was talking to and joking around with.

"Don't even pretend to…left on Newcomb, Leese."

Lisa obediently took a left.

"I know what you're going to say, and don't even say it, because you're not funny."

She shot him a glare that was only half serious, and he laughed.

"I've been told I'm quite funny," he said dryly, pretending to take offense. "Trust me, around the people I spend my time with…I'm a riot."

Lisa chuckled.

"I bet," she said. "They don't seem like a very….fun-loving bunch."

"No…they're not," Jackson said, snorting. "Right, here."

Lisa took a right, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He looked tired all of a sudden.

"What's wrong?" she asked, worried. He looked like he was going to be sick.

"Um…to quote a certain hostage of mine…everything," Jackson replied, frowning as he looked out the windshield. "Left." Lisa took it. "But at the moment…I'm just realizing that this is far from over."

Lisa was about to ask him what he meant, but before she even opened her mouth, she realized that she knew exactly what he meant. He meant that she wasn't going to be able to go back to her life for a while, not while they were still looking for her.

"How are we supposed to get them off my case?" she asked, frowning.

"We just have to get Andropov off your case," Jackson replied, so deep in thought that he didn't realize how intuitive Lisa had just been. "The Organization couldn't give a shit. They only care because Andropov is a powerful guy with a lot of money…"

"Okay, wait," Lisa said, stopping him in mid sentence. "First off, let's get a few things straightened out here, because I'm a little confused."

"Understandable," Jackson said. "Considering that five minutes ago you were getting shot at."

"Well…yeah," Lisa said. "But what I want to know is what the hell is going on here? Were you trying to protect me or not?"

She glanced at him and he sighed heavily, blessedly abandoning his poking for the moment as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It fell back right where it had been, hanging in his eyes in spikes thanks to the sweat that plastered it there.

"Yes, I was trying to protect you," Jackson said, as if he didn't want to admit it. "Everything that I told you in your apartment was true, but they caught us, and Anthony assumed that I was on their side, so I pretended to be. But I was, in the beginning, trying to protect you, yes."

"Okay," Lisa said, letting out a relieved sigh. "So that whole thing about Andropov wanting to kill me…?"

"That was true," Jackson said, sighing. "The man's insane. He holds grudges against people who haven't done anything to him. And he hired the organization to take care of it because we screwed it up last time.

"Perfect," Lisa muttered.

"Take a right here," Jackson said. "The building on the left? First one down? Park in the garage."

It was a little one-story building that looked like a warehouse. She maneuvered into the open garage door, which looked like it normally held something much larger, and turned off the car. She turned to face Jackson completely.

"So what now?" she asked.

"Now, we do what I do best," Jackson answered with a smirk. "We blend in."

"What?" Lisa asked, but Jackson was already halfway out of the car. She sighed and was about to open her own door, when Jackson beat her too it and opened it with a smile. "What do you mean, blend in?"

"We have to hide from Andropov and his men," Jackson answered. "We have to make sure they don't find us."

"What about my father?" Lisa asked. "What about Cynthia? What will happen to her?"

"I'll let you call the Lux to let Cynthia know she can call the police. Most likely Anthony left one of the hired guys watching her. They won't be keeping a very close eye. Then she can tell your father that you're okay."

"So she's going to be okay?" Lisa asked hopefully.

"Yes," Jackson said patiently. "She's going to be fine."

Lisa smiled with relief and finally stood up, getting out of the car and moving out of the way so Jackson could close it behind her. He threw his jacket over his shoulder and turned towards the large metal door that led into the building.

"Why are we here?" Lisa asked. The building seemed to be deserted.

"There's a few people here that are on my side…who don't work for the Organization. Basically they're the closest thing to friends that I have. Now, be wary, they're a little crazy. But I'm going to tell them that you're my girlfriend, and they'll leave you alone."

"All right," Lisa said, rolling her eyes. It seemed like every time they had to pretend to be something else, she was forced to pretend to be his girlfriend. It wasn't exactly an occupation she enjoyed, even if she was just pretending.

He took her hand, a gesture that was becoming more and more comforting and less and less creepy, and they walked over to the door, with her trailing behind reluctantly.

"We're just going to get in here, maybe alter our appearances a little bit, get this bullet out, and get some IDs, then we're out of here," Jackson said in a reassuring tone. Lisa gave him a fearful look. His constant reassurances weren't doing much for her faith regarding these 'friends' of Jackson.

Suddenly, Jackson turned and started walking back towards the car purposefully.

"What are you doing?" Lisa asked with confusion. Jackson popped the trunk and dug through the bags for a moment before retrieving a gray sweatshirt that was nearly identical to the one that was currently ruined in the back seat. He handed it to her with a knowing look, and she felt her apprehension only mounting as she hurriedly put it on, zipping it up a bit. So they were perverts too. Perfect. Jackson once again took her hand, and this time they walked to the door without any further conversation.

Jackson stuck out his fist and slammed it into the door loudly, three times. Then, he took a step back and pulled Lisa fully behind him, not letting go of her hand.

"It's been a while since I've been here," he said, turning to look at her, and she could see the tiniest hint of apprehension on his face.

"How long?" Lisa asked, suddenly realizing that there was a very good reason to be afraid.

"Since before I met you," Jackson admitted, making a face. Lisa gaped at him.

"Jackson!" he exclaimed. "How do you even know they're still here?"

"They've been here for more than thirty years," Jackson answered. "Trust me; they haven't moved in three months."

"Then why are you so nervous?" Lisa asked bluntly. Jackson pretended that her ability to see right through him didn't surprise him.

"I…" Jackson began, but he didn't get much farther before the door was thrown open, and he was met with the sight of a very familiar face.

* * *

_Jackson walked down the street, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets against the cold weather. The woman walking in front of him turned around to look at him, then turned to face the front and walked a little faster. Jackson rolled his eyes and was about to say something rude to the woman when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and shoved into a back alley._

_"What the…" he started, but then he saw who it was, and his young face broke into a delighted smile. "Vincent! You piece of shit, what the hell do you think you're doing?"_

_The young man in question, who looked about two years older than Jackson, who was at the time seventeen, laughed and pulled back, releasing his friend._

_"I just came from Paradise, man," he replied, leaning against the wall opposite Jackson in the narrow alley. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit up. Jackson grimaced. He hated smoking. Disgusting habit. "Jimmy was there looking for you. Said that you're in a shit-load for that stunt you pulled with the Vega job."_

_"What? Are you kidding me?" Jackson asked incredulously. "That was three months ago! How come he hasn't said anything about this to me before?"_

_"Maybe because you're a piece of shit and you don't deserve my breath," came a low, gravely voice from the front of the alley. Jackson and Vincent both turned, each of them surprised, to face the shadowy outline of their vertically challenged boss and mentor. Jimmy Paton stood at five feet and two inches, and was tiny compared to Jackson and his even taller companion. However, it was clear from the change of attitude in both boys that they respected and even somewhat feared him. Vincent stood up straight, and Jackson took his hands out of his pockets, and they both turned to face him with the air of soldiers lining up for inspection. Jimmy ignored Vincent and walked right up to Jackson. "Or maybe it's because I like you too much."_

_Jimmy laughed, and Jackson laughed too, shaking his head._

_"What do you want, Jimmy?" he asked. "You could have just told Vincent you wanted to talk…didn't have to go scaring me like that with that stupid story."_

_"What, so I scared you?" Jimmy asked with surprise. He turned to Vincent, raising his white, bushy eyebrows. "I scared him!"_

_"That you did," Vincent said with a small smile. Jackson shook his head and ran a hand through his hair._

_"So what is it, Jimmy, or did you just feel like torturing me today?"_

_"Maybe I just felt like torturing you," Jimmy said with a shrug. "But no, there really was a reason. See, there's this man I know, and he wants a guy to help him out."_

_"What kind of help?" Jackson asked, immediately interested._

_"He wants a hitman," Jimmy replied. "But…"_

_"Jimmy, you know I'm a horrible shot," Jackson muttered darkly._

_"Oh, cut the shit," Jimmy barked. "You could probably shoot if you tried. You don't shoot because the last gun you shot was the one that killed your daddy. Yeah, I know, kid, and I respect that. But it doesn't matter because this job isn't going to involve you killing anyone."_

_Vincent was looking at Jackson with mild interest. He had never heard about Jackson's past before; the only person who knew was Jimmy. In fact, no one in their circle of friends knew anything about the mysterious boy; only that Jimmy had showed up with him one night when he was twelve and had told them to set up an extra bed in the house._

_"You shot your father?" Vincent asked incredulously. Before the words had even finished leaving his mind, he knew that it had been a bad idea. Jackson's eyes flashed dangerously, and he glared at his friend darkly._

_"Hey!" Jimmy exclaimed, turning and looking at Vincent with disgust. "You shut your fucking mouth, all right? Jesus Christ, you'd think you were a fucking Chihuahua or something, always talking." He turned his back coldly on Vincent, who winced inwardly. A rebuke like that meant that you weren't going to get any jobs for a while. The only person who was immune to that, naturally, was Jackson. For some reason, he was Jimmy's favorite, and he was the one that could do no wrong._

_"How am I going to be acting as a hitman if I don't kill anyone?" Jackson asked, getting back on topic after glaring coldly at Vincent. Jimmy sighed and ran a hand through his hair._

_"Look, kid, I'll lay it out straight with you right now. You're brilliant. Smartest kid I've ever met, no lie. You have no place here. You don't deserve to live this life forever."_

_"I like this life," Jackson said with a small, nervous laugh._

_"Yeah, but you'll like this life better," Jimmy said. "Pays a hell of a lot better, and you don't even have to get your hands dirty."_

_Jackson was really listening, now._

_"What are we talking about, here?" Jackson asked, arching one eyebrow._

_"Management," Jimmy replied. "You set up the job, hire the people, get everything planned out…and then someone else bites it if the shit hits the fan. It's the perfect job for a kid like you. You always know everything about the job; you always throw your all into it. You're the right guy for this type of thing. Trust me. I'm a good judge of character." He flashed some pearly white teeth through his bushy white mustache, which stood out sharply against his tanned skin._

_"Well, who do I talk to about this management thing?" Jackson asked, his smile growing._

_"Follow me," Jimmy replied, and Jackson could have sworn that he saw a little bit of sadness in his eyes. Then they turned and walked out of the alley, leaving Vincent standing there forgotten. It was the last time he ever saw Jackson.

* * *

_

"You have got to be shitting me!"

Lisa peered around Jackson, who was apparently shocked into silence. The man standing in the doorway looked a little older than Jackson, and had blonde hair that was probably the same length as Jackson's.

"Umm…" she started, but she didn't get to say anything, because in the next minute the blonde guy had practically thrown himself at Jackson, and they were hugging. Hugging. Not something she ever thought she'd see Jackson do. But then again, there was apparently a lot she didn't know about Jackson.

"Holy shit, Jackson! What the hell you doing here?"

Lisa stood off to the side as Jackson pulled away and grinned lopsidedly at the other man.

"Vincent…my God. I can't believe it's you!"

Jackson sounded…happy. Another first.

"Man, come on, come in," Vincent said eagerly. He looked past Jackson and saw Lisa standing there nervously, and his eyes widened. "Whoa! Hello!"

"Hi," Lisa replied, smiling nervously and giving a little, uncertain wave. Vincent started to walk towards Lisa, but Jackson put out an arm.

"I missed you…but not that much," he said warningly. Vincent laughed and started back into the building.

"You haven't changed a bit!" he exclaimed happily. "Come on, everyone will…" Suddenly he broke off as he noticed, for the first time, the blood that was peeking out from behind Jackson's jacket, which was still slung over his shoulder. "Oh man, what the fuck!"

He stormed towards Jackson and ripped the jacket off of his shoulder, his expression turning into one of horror when he saw the wound and how close it was to Jackson's heart. He looked at Jackson incredulously.

"She's hurt too," Jackson said wordlessly, gesturing towards Lisa. Vincent noticed her rolled up sleeve, and the gash on her arm, and made a face.

"What the hell happened?" he asked.

"I need to talk to Jimmy," Jackson said. "I'll explain it to the both of you."

Vincent nodded and closed and locked the door behind him, and started leading them down the hallway nervously, walking at a breakneck pace. Lisa and Jackson exchanged a glance, and Jackson wordlessly took her hand as they continued down the hallway.


	10. On His Face Is A Map Of The World

Ugh, I don't know what's wrong with me lately! I'm so bogged down by schoolwork and stuff, I just can't seem to keep up with my writing! And then when I concentrate on my writing, all my schoolwork starts failing! I hate frickin AP! Hahaha. Plus there's all that lovely drama and such, though I personally think it's stupid and a pain in the ass. Basically…I'm sorry and will try to update faster in the future! Cus really, this is just pathetic!

In good news, I went to my first thirty seconds to mars concert on Wednesday, and they sang A Beautiful Lie! Hahaha. I was all excited, because it's one of my absolute favorite songs! (:

Thanks to all of you who reviewed! And please review again!

**Blushing Sigh:** Hahaha, I just randomly thought of that Chihuahua thing off the top of my head, kind of like my fingers were moving faster than my brain and that's what they decided to type out. So I thought it was kinda funny and kept it in there! Hahaha. Lisa and Jackson will definitely get closer, and she learns a little something about him in this chapter that will make her open up to him more possibly. (: And who knows where Vincent's gonna go! I'm not even 100 percent sure what his role's going to be! Same with Harrison! Hahaha. Sorry about the lack of quick updating! And my day was definitely made brighter by your review! I loved it!

Also, I'm pretty sure part of the lyrics are wrong this time, because all the lyrics sites are differing for the part I want to use, and it's unclear in the actual song, but I'll go with the one I have now because it makes sense and applies to Jackson kinda.

* * *

**Chapter 10:** On His Face is the Map of the World

He's a stranger to some  
And a vision to none  
He can never get enough  
Get enough of the world

For a fortune he'd quit  
But it's hard to admit  
How it ends and begins

On his face is a map of the world.  
A map of the world.  
On his face is a map of the world  
A map of the world.

Thirty Seconds to Mars  
From Yesterday

* * *

Vincent led them down the seemingly deserted hallway, to the very end, where he knocked several times, as if in code. The door slowly swung open, and a man with a rifle was revealed, aiming the gun at Vincent, then nodding and lowering the weapon casually.

"They with you?" he asked, nodding his head towards Jackson and Lisa. Vincent nodded, grinning.

"Sal, you don't know this guy, but this is Jackie Rippner. You've probably heard the stories…"

"Jackson Rippner? You mean Tampa Job Jackson Rippner?" The man with the gun, Sal, was staring at Jackson with a look of utter reverence. Jackson smiled patiently, though he was beginning to look a little unsteady on his feet. Lisa gripped his hand tighter.

"The one and only," Vincent said proudly in response to Sal's question. He seemed to suddenly remember that Jackson was wounded, and he grew serious. "He's hurt, though. We gotta get in."

"Right," Sal said quickly. "Hurry."

He ushered them in, sneaking a look at Lisa as she walked past, then looking away quickly when Jackson shot him a glare to chill his bones. With one more glance down the hallway, he swiftly slammed the large metal door closed, drawing the three heavy bars across it to lock it securely in place. Lisa looked around, drawing slightly closer to Jackson as she saw the three other men in the cramped room looking at her. She had seen that look before; first in Peter Johnson, and most recently in Ben's.

"I'd hoped that your…friends would be a little more accommodating than our last 'friends'," she whispered into his ear disapprovingly. Jackson glared at the offending individuals.

"Vincent?" he said pointedly. Vincent was talking to the only man in the room who wasn't staring at Lisa like she was some toy to be used. When he heard Jackson's weary voice, however, he turned around, immediately concerned.

"Shit, sorry, just getting clearance," he said, patting the other man on the shoulder and walking hurriedly over to where the two wounded refugees stood waiting. "All right, let's go."

He started walking towards the far corner of the small room. Then, he walked over to a small rug and pulled it up, revealing a dim square door in the wooden floor. Lisa's eyebrows rose a few inches, and she turned to look at Jackson questioningly.

"Jimmy likes to be careful," Jackson explained with a small grin. "You never know when unsatisfied customers might come looking."

"More often than you might think," Vincent said as he threw the door open, revealing a set of concrete stairs leading down into a black, empty void. Lisa frowned distrustfully, turning to look at Jackson with her eyebrows raised, as if to say 'there's no way I'm going down there'.

"It's all right," Jackson reassured her. "I've been down these stairs too many times to count. Nothing bad has ever happened to me before."

"Except that one time…" Vincent started with a laugh, but Jackson sent him a glare, and the other man fell silent, deciding that maybe it was better that he didn't tell that particular story. Though it was a good one.

"Let's go," Jackson said to him, giving Vincent a warning glance. Vincent grabbed a large flashlight off of the wall in beside him, then flicked it on and shone it down into the black abyss. The end still couldn't be seen. It didn't make Lisa much more confident about it.

"What is this place?" she asked, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as the cold air drifted up from below.

"This is where I grew up," Jackson said with something akin to fondness in his voice as he looked down through the gaping hole, a small smile on his face. Lisa's face registered surprise, but then was flooded with interest. She still didn't know anything about Jackson's past. Maybe this would shed a little more light on the matter.

Vincent started down the staircase, grabbing onto a railing. Lisa and Jackson followed; Lisa a little unsteadily. As soon as they were far enough down the staircase that they were safely out of the way, the door slammed shut overhead, and they could hear the rug being dragged back over it. Lisa found herself clutching Jackson fearfully as she breathed heavily against the dark, confining air.

"It's all right," Jackson said to her reassuringly. "Just stay close by me and nothing's going to happen."

It felt weird drawing any sort of comfort from Jackson, considering she was normally petrified of him, but she had no choice. She had always hated the dark, and she needed some kind of protection from it. She had to admit; that was definitely something that Jackson was good for.

"Jimmy told me that he and the boys broke you out of the hospital a few months ago," Vincent remarked conversationally. "Sorry I didn't go with them. I was back here, and no one felt the need to tell me about it."

"Jimmy said he didn't want you crying on the job," Jackson said with a small snort. "He said you'd turned real soft while I was gone."

"What a faggot," Vincent muttered, laughing and shaking his head. Lisa nearly tripped on a step, and Jackson's arm shot out automatically to prevent her from falling.

"Thanks," she said, mortified. She still couldn't see the bottom; that trip could have sent her falling all the way down, and who knew how far that would be?

"Why haven't you been here in so long?" Vincent asked suddenly, turning around to look at Jackson as he continued descending the steps. "Why didn't you ever visit or anything?"

"Oh, I visited," Jackson said, looking down at the ground and for once looking subdued, or meek. Lisa stared at him like she was looking at a whole other person. And, in reality, she was getting a glimpse of one. "I didn't want to stay…and I knew that if I talked to you, even for a second, I'd have to."

Vincent nodded sadly; evidently he believed that.

"Yeah," he said. "I figured it had something to do with that. But man, I've missed you."

Jackson was silent. Lisa could tell, just by the feeling of the silence, the tenseness of it all, that Jackson was desperately trying to break down the wall that he had fought so long to build between himself and the outside world. Lisa had a feeling that this man was part of the reason that the wall was there in the first place. It was clear that he inspired emotions in Jackson that hadn't been present for a long, long time. Fondness, attachment, friendship. All these concepts were long buried in Jackson's past, but they were far from foreign. She knew that there was something much deeper than he'd like her to see. And, of course, she was dying to see it.

"How do you two know each other?" she asked curiously.

"We go way back," Vincent said with a laugh, though Jackson didn't seem too willing to answer that question. "I'm, like, fourteen, and Jimmy walks into the room where we were; we were all orphans. We grew up here, us kids. People that Jimmy pulled off the street and out of orphanages. But anyway, he walks into my room, which I shared with this other kid Dave, and he has this kid with him. And this kid is absolutely the sorriest thing I ever seen. He's soaking wet, completely drenched from head to toe, you know? And Jimmy just pushes him in, gives him a little tap, and is like "this is Jackson. Be good" and walks out."

Jackson shook his head, grinning despite himself.

"It was more like a shove," he said bitterly. "I never forgave him for that. He just shoved me in there like he was feeding me to lions."

"He might as well have been!" Vincent laughed. "You were so pathetic looking, me and Dave just sat there and laughed our asses off at you. Then I kinda felt bad, because you just stood there…and you just stared at us. And you had those big puppy dog eyes…God, you charmed us over in like the first three seconds. We were calling you brother within the next three hours!"

"What can I say," Jackson said with a shrug and a smirk.

"What happened to your parents?" Lisa asked innocently. Instantly, she knew that it was a bad idea to ask that. Jackson's shoulders tensed, and Vincent flinched slightly.

"That's a story for another time," he said quickly, and he descended the last step, which Lisa hadn't even realized they had reached. Then, he knocked heavily on the large metal door. A small slit at about his eyelevel opened, and a pair of eyes behind goggles peered out.

"Vincent!" the voice exclaimed. "Let him in!"

The door slowly opened, and light flooded into the room. A small, portly, balding man stood there, grinning. His ruddy cheeks gave him a friendly, Santa Clause-esque appearance, and he slapped Vincent on the back heartily as they walked in, blinking in the light.

"Hey Philippe," Vincent said with a smile for the little man in front of him. Even Lisa found herself smiling at the infectious grin on his face.

"How's life above the ground, brother?" he asked in a slightly Irish accent. "Warm, I take it?"

It was quite cold underground. Lisa found herself shivering, though she was wearing a sweatshirt.

"Warm, and it feels so good," Vincent said with a chuckle. "When's your next shift in the guardroom?"

"Tomorrow," Philippe said happily. "Me and Sal are gonna get to work together, finally."

"That's good!" Vincent said, sounding genuinely happy for the older man. "You know where Jimmy is? I'm supposed to be meeting him."

"Haven't seen him," Philippe remarked. He ushered them in and closed the metal door firmly, locking it with a code and three heavy metal bars. After that, he pushed them through another door before closing and locking that one as well. Lisa wondered if Jackson had ever done this job. If so, the paranoia had certainly worn off. She was standing there reflecting on that when Philippe looked her way, smiling genially. "And who is this pretty young thing?"

Jackson's hand tightened on Lisa's protectively, but she gave him a look. How harmless could this sweet little old man be?

"I'm Lisa," she said kindly. He smiled at her with pleasure.

"You're a beautiful young woman, Lisa." He turned to Jackson. "Don't ever let her go. Women like her are hard to find."

Jackson and Lisa both smiled politely, the corners of their lips twitching as they reveled in their own little private joke. Jackson glanced at Lisa and smirked, and she smiled back.

"We should probably get going," Vincent said to Philippe. "Come on."

They left Philippe and walked down the concrete hallway, which was lit with fluorescent lights at periodic intervals along the ceiling. There were so many doors on either side of them that Lisa thought there must be an army of orphans within them. As they got further and further down the hallway, the concrete turned to wood, and then to actual wallpapering, with paintings and tapestries and other decorations. They came to the end of the hallway; a big set of double doors, and Vincent threw them open, revealing a huge room with a cathedral ceiling that looked like some sort of business center. There were people milling around in clusters, talking and laughing and eating. Vincent lead them through, saying hello to a few people before they came to a large oak door. He knocked on it twice.

"Come in," called a gravely voice from within.

Vincent opened the door, leading them into a dim room that looked a bit like an apartment. There was a desk in the center of the room, and decorations to make the room look better. The room was the same shade of green that Jackson's had been at the organization building; Lisa wondered if that was a coincidence. Open doors leading off to the side led into a bedroom and a bathroom, she could see, as she glanced at them.

Perhaps the most interesting feature of the room was the little man seated at the center desk, staring at them. His skin was tan and leathery, and it bunched around his beady black eyes, which sparkled in the light. He wore a bushy silver mustache to match his silver hair, the latter of which was slightly like Jackson's had been on the Red Eye flight. When they entered, he watched them, birdlike, with careful calculation until the door closed.

"It's about time," he muttered darkly by way of greeting, standing up and moving towards Jackson with a catlike grace despite his apparent age. He was just the same height as Lisa, who wasn't spectacularly tall. "We save you from a life behind bars, and we get what? Nothing? No visits, no phone calls, not even a fucking thank you note? Come on, Jackie. I raised you better than that!"

"I had a lot of business to attend to," Jackson said, actually sounding ashamed. "The first few months, they were watching me really carefully. There was no way I could have gotten out of there…"

"Yeah, yeah," Jimmy said dismissively. "I know, your Organization."

The said the word with contempt, as if there was nothing on the planet that he hated more. Jackson looked slightly annoyed.

"It's your fault I got into it," he said darkly, his tone bitter. "You said it would be just one job. Just one job, a hefty check, and I'd get to come back here and live out the rest of my days as a small time operator. You didn't tell me I'd spend the rest of my life…" He trailed off, shrugging, as if to say 'like this'.

Jimmy regarded him with some sadness. Lisa could see the regret in his eyes, and she glanced at Jackson, wondering what his life would have been like if he hadn't taken that one job, that one organization offering. Would he have been the same man?

"Yeah, I got you started, kid. And I'm real sorry about that. But you got in too deep, too fast. I told you to get out while you still could, but you were so damn intent on pleasing that Donald Trump wannabe asshole Hillman that you ignored me. And you turned out like you are now."

"He would have come here, and he would have killed you if I left," Jackson argued passionately. "He was ruthless, Jimmy, and he still is."

Lisa shifted slightly, biting her lip, and Jackson turned to face her, realization dawning on his handsome features.

"What?" Jimmy asked, catching the silent exchange.

"I…I think I killed him," Lisa replied, flinching slightly. Jimmy stared at her. Vincent gaped at her. Jackson blinked a few times, looking like someone had just kneed him in the gut again.

"Who the fuck are you and how the hell did you manage to kill Alexander Hillman?" Jimmy asked, taking a step forward. Jackson reached a hand out and instinctively put it on Lisa's shoulder.

"Don't intimidate her," he said to Jimmy warningly. "She's been through a lot in the past few days."

Jimmy nodded and backed off, still eyeing Lisa warily. Jackson turned to Lisa.

"Lisa…how did you kill Hillman?"

"He's the one I told you about," she said fearfully. "The knife…"

"The knife," Jackson repeated, nodding.

"Holy shit, she really killed him?" Vincent asked with excitement.

"Who the fuck is she?" Jimmy asked, looking beyond excited. Lisa was getting very confused. First he was pissed off, now he looked like he had just won the lottery.

"This is Lisa Reisert," Jackson replied. "She's the one who put the bullet holes in me."

"So she shot up Jackson Rippner and killed Alexander Hillman," Jimmy said with great respect. "Not many people can do that. In fact, no one's been able to kill Hillman before you." He turned to Jackson. "Who is she? She in the organization too?"

"Umm…no," Jackson said slowly. "She's a hotel desk manager at the Lux Atlantic."

There was a long pause, and Jimmy stared at him with his eyes wide.

"You mean this is the chick that they got you to pull the Keefe job with?"

"Yeah," Jackson said, sighing.

"Your target shot you," Jimmy said in a flat voice that oozed disappointment. "You let the target get hold of a gun?"

"She's tougher than she looks," Jackson said indignantly. "Trust me, I fought as hard as I could, and she still kicked my ass."

"You let a girl beat you?" Vincent asked, scoffing. Jimmy shot the other man a glare.

"It's not about the gender of the person," he said wisely. "But about their role in your life. You let your target get the best of you."

Lisa hadn't known that she had opened her mouth to speak until the words came out.

"Umm…I think I deserve some credit, here," she said, scarcely believing that she was even speaking the words. Who was she to talk to these men like that? She was going to get herself killed.

But, surprisingly, no one rushed at her or hit her or even said something back to her. Jimmy just laughed. Vincent chuckled. Jackson turned and smiled at her.

"Damn, Jackson," Vincent said. "Where did you find this chick?"

"I like her," Jimmy said decisively. "She reminds me of you, kid."

Lisa flinched. The second person in two days had just told them that they were alike. She really was not enjoying this.

"Yeah, except for the whole morals thing," Jackson said with a small chuckle.

"What, she's a saint?" Jimmy asked. Vincent laughed.

"The saint thing," he said wistfully. "I remember that."

Jackson smiled at Vincent.

"Yeah, she's a saint," he said. "That's why she stopped me from killing Keefe; couldn't stand the thought of him dying."

"There aren't enough people in the world like you," Jimmy said to Lisa sadly. "I wish I could say I was one of them, but no, it's never been that way and it ain't ever gonna be like that."

"Hey, there's not much wrong with how we are," Vincent said indignantly. Jimmy sighed.

"And you wonder why I never paid you as much attention as Jackie here," he said pityingly. "Kid, there are no words to describe how wrong everything we do is. We kill people, we steal from people. Yeah, we kill and steal from those people of Jackie's, the corrupt bastards and bitches, ya know? But it's still bad. It's still wrong. People like us, we can't let go of this life because it's all we got left. We only turn to this, to this madness, if we can't do anything else with our wasted lives. If we're hurting so badly that there ain't a damn thing we can do to make it better except make other people hurt as bad as us. And we fill our lives with glamorous things, things that normal people wouldn't bother spending money on. We try to fill ourselves up because we're all so goddamned tired of being empty. But it doesn't matter because nothing we do can ever make the emptiness go away. Nothing. And maybe we're not as bad as those assholes who run this shithole, the ones we hurt, the ones we corrupt…but we're still bad, kid. We're still wrong."

There was silence after Jimmy's speech, and Jackson looked at Jimmy sadly.

"You're not a very hopeful man, Jimmy," he said after clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Yeah, well, I gave up hoping after Amora died," Jimmy said harshly. "After she died there was no reason to keep on living, except this place." He looked around. "My daddy wanted me to turn it into the underground drug running palace that it had been when he was in charge. The man was an absolute pig, Jackie. But I didn't want to do what he did, I didn't want to spend my whole life dependant on no drugs. So when Amora died, I headed on down here, holed up, and started taking kids off the streets, teaching them the ways of the trade. I taught them how to pickpocket, to lift, to kill…but none of it made me full again. Not without her."

There was another long silence. Lisa looked at the ground, afraid to meet Jimmy's eye, wondering who Amora was and what had happened to her to make Jimmy so bitter.

"We should probably get Jackson's shoulder fixed up," Vincent said quietly, as if he was afraid he was going to be rebuked for breaking the endless silence.

"Yeah, bring him into the infirmary," Jimmy said offhand. "Leave the girl behind. I want to talk to her."

Though if it had been anyone else, even that guy Philippe, Lisa would have flat out refused to stay behind alone, with Jimmy she felt safe. She knew he wasn't like anyone else she had met. He also intrigued her in the same way that Jackson intrigued her; he offered little glimpses of his past, just enough to make her wonder.

"I think maybe she should…" Jackson started, looking slightly wary, but Lisa shook her head.

"No, it's okay," she said. "I'll stay."

Jackson gave her a look as if to say 'are you sure?' and she nodded decisively.

"Okay," he said with a grin. "Just try not to scare her too much, Jimmy. She's been through a lot."

"I know, you damn parrot," Jimmy said, waving his hand. "You said that already. Get out of here before you bleed on my rug!"

Jackson and Vincent were laughing as they closed the door behind them, and then it was just Lisa and Jimmy alone in the room.

"Take a seat, sweetie," Jimmy said kindly. "You want something to drink? I got soda here."

He gestured to the bar beside the door, which Lisa hadn't seen.

"Umm…sure," she said.

"What do you want, I'll get it for you. Cherry Coke good?"

Lisa looked at him suspiciously. She loved cherry Coke.

"Yeah," she said.

"Figured," Jimmy said with a small chuckle. "You and Jackie really are alike. It was his favorite drink when he was a kid."

Lisa made a face and Jimmy laughed, pouring her a glass and handing it to her, leading her over to the desk by the elbow like Jackson had done.

"What was Jackson like as a kid?" she asked with real interest. "I mean, I don't know him that well. It's really hard to picture him being a kid at all."

"He was the cutest damn kid you ever saw," Jimmy said with a laugh. "That was what made me approach him right away. He was walking down the street, you know, and it was raining, and I was just driving home from the grocery store. It was like…the only time I went to the damn grocery store in my life. See, the guy who normally does it for me was sick, and I had to do it myself, which was a pain in the ass because there's so much shit to get for all the kids, you know? But anyway, so I'm driving down the street and I see this kid walking along all fast and nervous like, and I thought maybe he had run away from home. It's sad, you see a kid walking down the street really fast like that, you automatically think child abuse or something. So I pulled up next to him and rolled down the window, and he turned towards me and I swear, my heart melted." Jimmy laughed and sat down at the desk comfortably. "He was so adorable. He had those huge eyes, like a dog or something, you know? And I said to him 'hey, kid, what you doing out in the rain?' and he just kind of stared at me and said 'I ran away'. So, you know, I obviously was at least a little proud of myself for guessing right, you know? But then I said to him, 'you got a name?' and so he was silent for a real long while, and he just kind of stared at me like I was some kind of monster, then he said 'Jackson Rippner'. Just like that, in this little, innocent voice. So, obviously, I asked him where he lived, and he said 'nowhere, I ran away'. So, I was getting a little annoyed by this point, because I really had to get back, but I couldn't just let a kid roam the streets free, so I asked the kid if he wanted to get back to his parents. And then he just burst into tears, right in front of me. The kid's twelve fucking years old and he starts bawling his eyes out right in front of me, and I have no idea what to do! So I'm staring at him, and he looks at me and he says 'mister, I think I did something real bad.'" Jimmy shook his head sadly.

"What did he do?" Lisa asked, completely engrossed in the story.

"Well, I wanted to know that myself. So I leaned over the seat, and I said, real nicely, 'and what might that be?' And he just stared at me for a minute. He looked like he was going to cry again. And after making me promise that I wasn't going to tell anyone, he said, 'I just killed my daddy'."

"What?" Lisa asked, horrified. She remembered back to the airport, when he had made that fleeting joke about killing his parents. At the time, she had thought it was funny, but he apparently hadn't been joking.

"I thought the same thing. I stared at him, and I said, 'kid, if you're telling the truth, then that's a serious problem. Why'd you kill your daddy?' And then he just looked at me, and he unbuttoned his jacket, and I saw that his shirt was just covered in blood. And so I stared at him, and I was starting to get a little freaked out, you know, and he said to me, all quiet like, 'Because he killed my mommy'."

Lisa felt her heart break as she heard those words. Jackson's father had killed his mother, assumedly right in front of him, and he had gone on to kill his father. That was the most horrible thing she had ever heard. No wonder Jackson was the way he was.

"That's so…" she whispered, unable to find the words. "That's horrible…"

"I know," Jimmy said sadly. "I felt bad for the poor kid, so I asked him where he was going, and he said that he didn't have a clue. So I took him in; I let him live with us down here. And I raised him to be the best of the best. I turned him into a monster." Jimmy sighed, and suddenly he seemed ten years older to Lisa. He seemed to sag almost, and he sank lower in his chair, taking a sip of the water in front of him. He ran a hand over his face, and Lisa couldn't help but feel pity for the poor man.

"You gave him a home," she said gently, trying to reassure him. "You gave him something that he didn't have."

"And apparently never had," Jimmy said glumly. "One time he was so drunk, he started talking about how his daddy used to beat his old woman, and him, too. He was talking about how he used to take off his belt nice and slow, just so all the anticipation would build up. And how he would keep the family guessing when he came home, kept them walking on their tiptoes all day long, but it didn't matter if they were good as gold when he was in a bad mood. He'd act all pleasant and then wham, he'd come flying at them."

Lisa listened to all of this with a growing horror. She couldn't imagine her father ever doing that to her. She couldn't imagine a miniature Jackson getting beaten and abused and lying on the floor, crying his eyes out as he watched his beautiful mother being hit again and again by the very same man who had just hit him. For some reason it broke her up inside like nothing before.

"Do you have any pictures of him when he was little?" she asked, trying hard not to let tears creep to her eyes. She didn't know what was wrong with her; why she was fighting to not cry over this, but she was. She felt so bad for Jackson, and felt like all the times she had said something to him, something mean about how bad his character was, had all added to his pain.

"Oh, yeah," Jimmy said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We went back to his house a few days later, and there were policemen and everything, but my buddy Brian was there for me and he got me right in there, and I got all Jackie's shit. And there was this photo album…I never told Jackie that I took it, and I still have it, right here."

Jimmy bent down and pulled open his desk drawer, grabbing something inside and handing Lisa a black photo album with white trim around it. Lisa thanked him under her breath and opened it up to the first page. In neat, woman's script was written 'our little family'. Lisa felt tears pricking as she looked at the large picture below the letters.

The picture was of the family; the handsome and tall father with long black curls, the beautiful brunette mother with a noticeably sad smile, and the tiny little boy in between with brown hair down to his ears and huge blue eyes, a giant smile lighting up his face. The boy in the picture was undeniably Jackson; he had the same high cheekbones and pursed lip smile. But the eyes were so light and happy and carefree, it was like she was looking at a whole new person.

She was so engrossed in looking at the picture that she didn't even hear the knock on the door until Jimmy had grabbed the photo album and shoved it in his desk.

"Yeah, come in," he said, closing the drawer and locking it casually. The door opened, and Vincent and Jackson walked in. Jackson was wearing a clean white shirt that may as well have been the exact same one he was wearing earlier. He was carrying a small medical kit, and he and Vincent were laughing about something that the doctor had said. Lisa stared at him like she was looking at a new man; a whole different person. Now everything made so much sense. Everything that he did, everything that he said…he was still that lost little kid walking without any destination in the rain, though he tried to suppress it. And Lisa felt more emotion for him than she ever had before. She felt pity, sorrow, and amazement that he had to go through so much at such a young age.

"All set," Vincent said cheerily. "He's going to be fine."

"Good," Jimmy said roughly. "Pour him a cherry Coke, will you? We have some shit to talk about."

Jackson moved over to the desk, setting down the peroxide.

"Arm," he said, holding out his hand. Lisa held out her arm for him warily, and he unscrewed the top of the peroxide. "This is going to hurt," he said gently.

"I know," Lisa said, wincing already. He smiled at her fondly, much like she had smiled at him at the mall. It seemed like days ago that they were standing there, smiling and laughing and behaving normally, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours. That astounded Lisa.

"So why don't you tell us what happened, Jackie," Jimmy said with interest. "Why'd you come here?"

"I needed some place where they wouldn't find us," Jackson replied.

"Who, the Organization?" Jimmy asked with raised eyebrows. Jackson started to apply the peroxide, and Lisa hissed in pain. Jackson's fingers tightened on her arm gently.

"None other," Jackson replied with a heavy sigh, as if he wasn't really happy to be admitting that.

"So you spend ten years being at their beck and call and doing everything under the sun for them, and now you're running from them because of this chick here?"

"Yeah," Jackson said simply, finishing his application of the stinging peroxide to Lisa's arm and beginning to wrap it up in the bandage. "Though it goes slightly deeper than that. I retired after the Keefe incident. I retired, but they said I had to do one more assignment to retire with honors. I tried to get around that, but they were saying how they were going to try to do the Keefe job again, this time with Lisa's friend, Cynthia. So I pretended to be interested, and I got the basic idea, which was that Anthony and his men were going to kidnap Lisa from her apartment. So the first thing I did was go to her apartment and try to rescue her, but when we were getting into a cab, they found us. Anthony, the idiot that he is…was…thought I was with them, and we ended up back at headquarters, where we stayed for a few days until today. Anthony somehow found out through one of Hillman's associates, Donaldson, that I had been trying to protect her. So he was screaming at me in his office and waving a gun around, and then he just suddenly grew real calm, and just shot me. And he completely missed the heart, but he would have shot me again if Lisa hadn't kicked open the door and shot him."

Jimmy stared at Lisa incredulously.

"You shot Anthony Meyers, too?" he asked.

"He's the one she's actually sure she killed," Jackson said with something akin to pride in his voice. "She's one hell of a shot, let me tell you.

"No shit," Jimmy said with reverence. "Girl, I really wish you were on my team."

Lisa smiled politely.

"Thanks," she said. "But I think I've probably killed my last man."

"Don't be so sure," Jackson said with a snort. "You might have to get your hands a little more dirty before you can say that."

Lisa smirked and pulled the gun out of her back pocket, handing it to him.

"You can keep the gun from now on," she said. He chuckled slightly and pocketed the weapon.

"Deal," he said.

"So I suppose we should get down to business, now," Jimmy said, folding his hands on the desktop and looking at Jackson sternly. "What do you need?"

"I need someone to negotiate with Andropov," Jackson replied in a businesslike tone. "Try to get him to call off the Keefe job. Whatever money he demands, I can pay. I need IDs for myself and Lisa, as soon as possible…anything else you can think of, Leese?"

"Are you kidding?" she asked incredulously. "I still don't have any idea what's going on."

"You're going underground," Jimmy said in a tone of disbelief, his gaze on Jackson. "You can't be serious, kid. You're going to get yourself killed if anyone recognizes you. Stay here with us until it all blows over."

"They know about my ties to you, Jimmy," Jackson said painfully. "I can't stay here. They'll come looking for me."

"So fucking what if they do? They don't know where this place is; no one does but me and my kids. And even if they somehow did know, there's no way in hell they're getting in through that door up there. They'd be dead before they even got close to touching it. Do you remember how this shit works, Jackson?"

"Yes," Jackson said glumly, looking very much like a sullen young child who has just been scolded.

"And tell me, what happens if someone gets past the guard house?"

"The alarm sounds," Jackson replied with a heavy sigh.

"And what happens when the alarm sounds, Jackie?" Jimmy probed.

"The doors close," Jackson said, rolling his eyes.

"And?"

"And the guns activate."

"Exactly. Which means that anyone who even makes it down those stairs is shot before they can get within three feet of that door. And even if by some miracle they managed to get to the door, they ain't getting through that thing with anything less than a…" he pretended to think for a moment. "Actually, I'm pretty damn sure that there ain't nothing that can get through that door, Jackie. So how about you stop worrying so much about other people and start worrying about the girl. You go underground with her, and you're putting her at a greater risk than you ever have before, and the way I understand it, you've been putting her at plenty of risk."

Jackson sighed and ran a hand through his hair, glancing at Lisa, who suddenly couldn't seem to meet his eye.

"All right," he said with a heavy sigh. "We'll stay here."

Lisa squeezed her eyes shut and let out a heavy sigh. She just realized that she was going to be with Jackson for a long, long time.


	11. Try and Stop Me, Try and Save Me

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukah! This chapter update is a gift from me to you (: I hope you like it and remember to review because that would make me oh so happy!

Have a great Holiday!

* * *

**Chapter 11:** Try and Stop Me, Try and Save Me

**Try and stop me  
Try and save me  
**I want to fall...  
Try and crush me  
Take me, tease me  
I want to fall  
I want to fall  
I want to fall...

30 Seconds to Mars  
Battle of One

* * *

Jackson turned to Lisa as soon as they were out in the hallway.

"You understand we could be here for a long time," he said rationally.

"Yeah," Lisa said, drawing in a deep breath. "I mean…I don't like it, but I understand…why it's necessary."

"Good," he said with a small smile for her. "We should make that call to Cynthia soon."

"What if someone's already gotten to her?" Lisa asked. "What if they're planning on going through with the Keefe job anyway?"

"Then we get some people to deal with it," Jackson said reassuringly. "Unless you want to burst in there, guns blaring, or something."

"I'll pass," Lisa said with a sad laugh, waving her hand. "I've had enough fighting to last me a lifetime."

"Yeah, you're the smart one," Jackson said with a slightly bitter laugh.

"No, I'm just not the type of person to run around with guns," Lisa replied.

"I can see that, actually," Jackson said with a thoughtful laugh. "You running around like some kind of Lara Croft."

"I'm hardly Lara Croft!" Lisa replied with a laugh. Jackson chuckled to himself, shrugging as he nearly walked into a large Middle Eastern man.

"I don't know," he said doubtfully, not noticing how the Middle Eastern man stared after him in shock, then pointed to Jackson and said something to his companion reverently. Lisa caught 'Rippner' before they were lost in the crowd, and she smiled to herself. Jackson was some sort of celebrity here. It was certainly an odd thing to be famous for; killing other people, but that didn't make it any less amusing.

"Where are we going?" she asked him.

"Back to my old room," he said with a small chuckle. "By the time I was seventeen here, I had a full apartment, like Jimmy's. When I left, he refused to give my room to anyone else. He said it would be like renting out his own son's room." Jackson smiled slightly and shook his head. "That man really is too sentimental for his own good. He told me that he didn't change a thing. Not for ten years."

"Well he obviously was pretty attached to you," Lisa said with a small laugh. "Wasn't he?"

"Oh, definitely," Jackson said. "Any job he wanted me to do, it was always one with a low risk of being hurt." He glanced around and lowered his voice to a more confidential tone. "I found out a few years ago that he lost his only son a year before his wife died. A few of the guys at the Organization knew him back then, and said that when his son died, all life seemed to go out of him. But they said when he found me, it was like the life came back, at least a little."

"Why you?" Lisa asked. "Did you look like his son or something?"

"Not at all," Jackson said. "His son was much smaller than me. He was only six when he died. I think Jimmy just formed an attachment to me because I was the one who latched onto him. I needed a good father figure, because I had never had one, and Jimmy needed a son, because he had never had the chance to watch his son grow."

Hearing those voices out of Jackson's mouth; hearing something from him that wasn't sarcastic or witty or degrading in any way, was something of a shock to Lisa. She resisted the urge to mention it, though. She knew if she said something, he would immediately do something to fix that, and she was enjoying this odd sympathy.

"It makes sense," she said to him instead, sadly. "That poor man. What happened to them?"

"Who?" Jackson asked, his head snapping back towards her from whatever he had been looking at on the other side of the large room.

"His wife and his son," Lisa said.

"I don't know how his son died," Jackson admitted. "Though I think it was some kind of illness. The doctors don't like talking about it much. But I think everyone here knows how Amora died."

"How?" Lisa asked interestedly.

"When Jimmy was twenty-five, and she was twenty three, I believe, the two of them were out at some movie, and they were walking home since they lived rather close to the theater. On the way, some kid attacked them. He was a heroin addict, they discovered later, and had no money for his next fix. People like that, they'll resort to anything to get their money. So he attacked them, and he managed to knock Jimmy out. When he woke up, all his money was gone, and he was lying on his back in the alley with Amora in his arms, dead."

Lisa gasped with horror.

"What had happened to her?" she asked with fright.

"She was stabbed," Jackson said lowly. Then, he glanced at Lisa as if he knew this last bit of the story was going to hurt Lisa the most. She had a feeling she knew what he was going to say. "Later tests…later tests showed that he had had his fun with her before he killed her."

Lisa felt painful tears pricking her eyes, and she looked down at the ground before he could see. She was pretty sure he saw anyway, though, and she wiped her eyes furiously. It always seemed to happen when someone mentioned rape, or her own incident. It had been over two years ago, and she still got emotional about it. Part of her was disgusted with herself.

"That's horrible," she whispered.

"Yeah," Jackson agreed. "Jimmy was never the same again, I'm told. He set up this place to try to get all those kids off the streets, the ones who don't have anywhere to go. He did it so we wouldn't get addicted to anything, so we wouldn't be running around, trying to steal money for our next fix."

"But you still steal from people," Lisa said with confusion. "You still kill people."

By now, they had reached a door. Jackson opened it, and they walked into a long hallway, which was decidedly nicer than the one they had seen coming in.

"Like Jimmy said back there, sometimes when you're hurting that bad, the only thing you can do is make other people hurt like you." He sighed. "Jimmy's a good man. Not like your Charles Keefe there, certainly, but he's got a good head on his shoulders. The only problem is that he's had a rough life. He's had more problems than I think any of us can ever hope to relate to. And he took those problems and he turned them into other people's problems. I think that's the only way he can live with himself; to burden the people who deserve to be burdened."

Lisa was silent after Jackson's words, and she looked down at the ground as they walked.

"It's a lot harder to classify people," she said slowly, not altogether sure of where she was going with that. "Here, I mean. Some people, like Harrison and Jimmy, you're sure you like them, but then you think about who they are and what they've done, and you start to question yourself. It's weird…I always used to think the world was black and white, you know?"

"Yeah," Jackson said sadly. "I used to think so too. Way back, before I met anyone here. I used to think my father was black and my mother was white. Wrong and right, good and bad. But then when I came here, I realized that there were some things I had to learn about the world. I had to learn that the world wasn't just split into perfect halves; there was no pure good and there was no pure evil. Everyone has two sides."

"Even you?" Lisa asked seriously. Jackson looked her in the eyes, emotionless.

"Even me," he said. Then, he turned left to face the door that was now in front of him. Lisa turned as well, and he pulled a key out of his pocket, twirling it on his finger and smiling. "Here we are," he said. "I just hope he really hasn't changed anything. I want this to be a grand, coming home moment."

Lisa smiled at him, and he stuck the key in the lock, turning it effortlessly and pushing it open. The room in front of them was dark and certainly didn't look very inviting. Jackson reached his hand to the wall and found the light switch, flicking it on with a triumphant smile.

Light flooded the room, revealing a room that looked almost exactly like the one at the Miami headquarters. Lisa felt a lump rising in her throat as she suddenly understood the defensiveness that had been in Jackson's eyes when Anthony had ridiculed him for painting the walls and making the room out to be something beautiful. He had done it because he had modeled it after his home.

"This place looks familiar," she managed after a while.

"Yeah, home sweet home," Jackson said with a small laugh, trying to sound indifferent though it was clear that he was feeling the moment as he had said he would. "I should send someone to get the clothes in the trunk, along with my stuff."

"Your stuff?" Lisa asked.

"Yeah, the box," Jackson replied. Lisa vaguely remembered seeing a large cardboard box in the trunk.

"What's in it?" she asked.

"My clothes, money, that sort of thing," Jackson said vaguely. "Stay here, all right, Leese? No running off."

He looked at Lisa pointedly and walked out the door, closing it behind him. Lisa noticed that the only way to open the door from the inside if it was locked was with a key as well. She listened for the sound of the key turning in the lock, and when the sound didn't come, she smiled to herself and walked over to the large bed, sitting down on it slowly, sighing as the tension seemed to drain out of her muscles. Kicking off her shoes, she decided that she would lie down for a bit, and when Jackson got back, they could talk about whatever it was that they needed to discuss.

But that time didn't come, because as soon as Lisa's head hit the pillow, she was fast asleep.

* * *

"Don't you think it's just a little suspicious?" a man with a shaved head asked Vincent as the two of them sat at a bar, drinking together.

"No, man," Vincent said with a sigh. "Jackson's a good guy."

"I remember when he was a kid, he was creepy," the man said decisively. "I never liked him."

"You never liked me, either," Vincent reminded him. "Greg, just calm down. You're even more paranoid than Jimmy sometimes."

"Yeah right," Greg snorted, taking a sip of his drink. "I don't think there's anyone in the world more paranoid than that piece of shit."

"You give him a run for his money, that's for sure," Vincent replied. "Always suspecting everyone of something."

"Yeah, well, you can never be too careful," Greg muttered as if he had taken offense at Vincent's comment. Vincent rolled his eyes and smirked slightly.

"Careful ain't gonna get you nowhere," he said. "That's what Jackie always used to say. Because he said that if you fail, you were destined to fail all along, so there's really no point in being careful in the first place."

"Yeah, well I'm not gonna leave my fate up to fate," Greg muttered, chugging his drink and pushing his stool back, standing up. "I gotta go. Just…watch out for that kid, Vincent. I have a bad feeling about him, and I don't want old loyalties to get in your way of making a judgment call if you have to." He gave Vincent a knowing look and walked out of the bar, leaving Vincent behind to think on his words.

* * *

Jackson walked into his room, carrying the bundles of clothes and his cardboard box, followed by Philippe, who carried the stuff that Jackson couldn't manage by himself. The room was dark, but neither of them was able to turn on the light; their arms were too full. They dropped the stuff on the ground.

"Thanks, Philippe," Jackson said, patting the other man on the back.

"No problem, Jackson," Philippe said in his soft Irish accent. "If you need anything else, you know where to find me."

Jackson nodded and smiled and walked Philippe to the door, closing it behind him and finally turning on the light. Then, he locked the door behind him; a complicated array of locks much like the ones at the Organization building, and he turned around.

Like he'd expected when he saw that the lights were off, Lisa was asleep. The motion censor lights turned off if there was no movement, to save energy, which either meant that Lisa had run off, was dead, or was asleep. Jackson was relieved that it was the latter. He smiled at her still form slightly; she looked really worn out. He couldn't blame her, it had been a stressful day even for him.

He walked over to the wardrobe in the corner of the room and pulled a blanket off of the top shelf. It had been his mother's blanket. Jimmy had taken it from the house when he went to pick up Jackson's stuff. As Jackson looked at it, he felt a wave of emotions that he hadn't experienced in a long time. Grief, sadness, loss. He had buried those feelings long ago, but this place brought those feelings back again. This place brought back a lot of feelings. It was slowly crumbling the mental wall that all those years in the Organization had required him to build.

He was surprised, he realized, to find that he had a lump in his throat. He had always been a sensitive person, even at the age of seventeen, and often felt that the best way to let the pain out was to just cry it out. Jimmy had taught him that. The Organization had taught him that it was wrong to cry; that he couldn't cry or he would be weak. Now he wanted nothing more than to just curl up in the blanket and cry himself to sleep, though he was appalled at the very idea. He? Cry? No, never.

In order to push that urge away, he walked over to the bed and draped the soft, warm blanket onto Lisa's body. She murmured something and curled her hand around the blanket, sighing with content. He smiled slightly and turned back to the clothes, starting to pull them out of the bags and put them in the wardrobe.

As he did that, he began to reflect again; though certainly it wasn't his ideal choice of activity. He thought about Jimmy, and about Lisa, about Anthony. Mostly, he thought about how much he had been changed, and how much he wished that he had never taken that job from Jimmy. He would have never met Anthony, or Hillman, or Andropov, or even Lisa. He glanced over at Lisa sadly. She would have never been dragged into the mess that she was in now. She wouldn't have been shot, she wouldn't have cried the tears that she did…

He sighed and finished putting the clothes on hangers and in the drawers, and turned to his large cardboard box. He opened it slowly, smiling slightly. Inside was, really, his life. It was rather sad, he thought. On the top of the box were several items of clothing; he would have to get more later, he decided. Most of his clothing had been in the headquarters, which was probably now a pile of ash and smoldering rubble.

He took out the clothes and hung them on hangers next to Lisa's prolific wardrobe. Then, he turned back to the box. Below the clothes was a painting done by a woman named Angelia Davis. It was beautiful painting of a sunset with a mountainous backdrop. Near the bottom of a picture, there was a small cabin where a woman and a man lay on a hammock together; their features indiscernible in the sunset's glow. A young child, most likely a boy by the cut of his hair, played in the yard, chasing after a white butterfly. Jackson smiled to himself as he hung the painting on the wall next to the wardrobe. Then he pulled out another painting by the same woman, this one a scene of Jesus bending down to kiss a young boy on the forehead, while the boy looked at the ground, tears coursing down his cheeks and bruises covering his face. There was a light emanating from Jesus that surrounded the boy, and the shadows beyond the boy were pushed back by the light. One of the shadows had a definite shape to it, and it was almost humanlike. Jackson hung that picture above the desk next to the door, making sure it was perfectly straight before returning to the box.

Underneath the paintings was a picture of his mother. He sighed sadly and gazed at it for a moment, feeling that lump rise in his throat again. He put it face down on his desk, deciding that he would find a place for it later. Then, he pulled out a few books that he always kept with him before closing the box and sealing the rest of the contents inside and shoving it under the desk where it would be hidden from sight. With a sigh, he stood up and looked around, making sure that there was nothing out of place. He didn't want to think about what might still be in the drawers of the desk, or in the cabinet under the bedside table. Seeing as how Jimmy hadn't moved his mother's blanket in ten years, he would be willing to bet that he really hadn't moved anything else, either.

With one last look around the room, he opened the door and turned off the lights, stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind him. He had a few calls to make.

* * *

When Lisa awoke, there was a small light in one corner of the room, but other than that it was completely dark. She sat up, realizing that she had a blanket draped over her. She smiled slightly at the gesture. Glancing around, she spotted Jackson sitting in a recliner near the light, apparently sleeping.

"Jackson?" she whispered quietly, her voice just loud enough so that he would hear her if he was awake, but it wouldn't wake him if he was sleeping. He didn't stir, and she stretched before standing up, realizing that she had to go to the bathroom, and there wasn't one in the room.

Frowning, she glanced at Jackson, but he didn't appear to be going anywhere, and she really didn't want to wake him up, so she walked over to the door, rolling her eyes as she started to undo the complicated locks on the inside of the door. Thankfully, he hadn't locked it with the actual key, so she could open the door once she unlocked the others.

She slipped out into the hallway silently, closing the door behind her and mentally cheering when it didn't make any noise. The hallway was lit dimly, giving Lisa the impression that it was nighttime. She quietly crept down the hallway, listening for any noise that might alert her to someone's presence. She certainly didn't want to be caught unawares down in a place like this.

She reached the end of the hallway and turned into the main one. She remembered the way back to the center, thankfully, and emerged into it's lightened interior a few minutes later. She was glad to see that people were still walking around, though it was a considerably smaller amount of people than it had been earlier in the day. Lisa spotted a young woman who looked relatively normal and headed over to her.

"Excuse me," she said kindly. The woman turned towards her, smiling pleasantly.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Umm…do you know what time it is?" Lisa asked. The woman glanced at a watch on her wrist.

"It's two in the morning," she said. "Give or take a few minutes."

Lisa's eyes widened.

"Wow," she said. "There's so many people still up."

"Not being out in the natural sunlight really throws you off," the woman explained, taking a sip of her drink. "You go to sleep when you're tired, party when you're not." She laughed to herself.

"So you live here?" Lisa asked with interest. The woman caught her surprise, and figured out why it was there relatively quickly.

"Yeah," she said with a happy sigh. "At first, I was a little, you know, 'ehh' about the whole thing, but after a while, it really starts to grow on you. You start to realize that what these men and woman are doing, it's not a bad thing. Not really. They're just trying to help."

"For their own personal gain," Lisa said pointedly.

"Well naturally, but they're also helping other people." The woman tilted her head to one side. "You don't know much about this place, do you?"

"No," Lisa admitted. "I just got here today."

"Oh, you're the girl who came with Rippner?" the woman asked. "That explains it. So far, you've only dealt with the Organization."

"There's a difference?" Lisa asked, surprised.

"Oh, huge," the woman replied. She gestured to a nearby table that was at the front entrance of one of the cafés, and the two of them sat. "These men and women, they kill, they steal, and they hurt only the corrupt. The tyrannical. The really, really bad people who try to get ahead by using force in this world. Well, this city specifically, but there are offshoots of Jimmy's little empire all over the world now, thanks to this place." She gave another happy sigh, sounding like a lover describing her loved one. "Oh, but anyway. These people that live here, they're doing this to purge the world of people who try to take advantage of others. I'm sure Rippner's given you the whole saints speech, right?"

"Yeah." Lisa said with a small smile. The woman chuckled.

"My husband hero worships that man," she said, shaking her head. "I swear, it's pathetic. I've never even met the guy, and I know everything about him thanks to all the information Bennie spits out."

"You and your husband both work for Jimmy?" asked Lisa, who strangely thought that was kind of cute.

"Oh, no," the woman said with a laugh. "I'm not one of Jimmy's orphans. I met Bennie when he was on a job, and we fell in love, we got married…and we came back here."

Lisa realized that she was gaping in her surprise, and she swiftly closed her mouth.

"Did you know who he was?" she asked. "When you married him, I mean. Did you know who he worked for?"

"Oh, yeah," the woman. "I was a civilian at the place where the hit was taking place. It was at a pawnshop, actually. I was just trying to sell the man my mother's golden earrings, and Bennie burst in with his team. Actually, Vincent Gavery was leading the team; Bennie was his second. But so anyway, they burst into the shop, and they headed over to the front desk. Bennie took my arm and pulled me out of the way slightly, then told me to cover my eyes if I had any problem with seeing a little bit of blood. So, obviously, I was horrified. I started screaming, but Bennie just grabbed me and pushed me up against a wall, covering my mouth with my hand and telling me in this really dangerous tone that if I fucked things up, he would slit my throat. But, you know, I still fought back, but it was too late because Vincent fired and killed the guy. I thought they were going to let me go for a bit, but they wanted to make sure I didn't tell anyone what they looked like, so they took me with them. I was in a warehouse with them for a few days; I spent most of my time with Bennie, who was the only one who would take care of me. The rest of them, they wanted no part of it. But, to make a long story short, Bennie and I fell in love, and we have been ever since."

The woman gave Lisa a happy smile, obviously finding her story very romantic. Lisa, personally, was extremely surprised.

"You mean even though he held you captive and forced you up against a wall and terrorized you…you still fell in love with him?" she asked.

"Yeah," the woman said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Because he made up for it. He showed me that no matter what he acted like on the outside, the inside is what matters. And his inside more than makes up for it." She smiled dreamily. "I wish you could meet him. You'd understand then. But he's away, and probably will be for a while." She sighed. "That's the only downside. Well, that and the constant worrying that he's going to be killed. The wives of these men…they have a lot to go through."

"I can't imagine," Lisa said sympathetically. "Have you ever gone with him on a job?"

"Oh, plenty of times," the woman said with a small grin. "I've even helped him out on occasion. It's exhilarating, though sometimes I feel terrible admitting it, to have that kind of power. To be able to manipulate someone and get them to do what you want…it's almost a magical feeling. I can see why these poor lost people like it so much."

Lisa listened to the woman with a small smile on her face. She was so adamant and determined to prove her point. It was slightly touching, and she wondered what had changed the woman's feelings. How had she fallen in love with that man? That man who hurt her and abused her and made her feel like Jackson made Lisa herself feel. How did she suddenly decide that he wasn't something to be feared; that he was someone to be loved?

She wanted to ask all those questions, but she really had to go to the bathroom, and she didn't want to pry.

"I haven't been around long enough to understand it," she said. "And, no offence, but I really hope I won't."

"Oh, none taken," the woman assured her. "I understand completely. Some people just aren't cut out for this sort of life; the adventure."

"Well, I'm definitely one of those people," Lisa said with a laugh. "Umm…I'm sorry, but can you show me where the bathroom is?"

"Oh, sure," the woman said, standing up. "By the way, I'm Felicia Carver."

"It's nice to meet you, Felicia," Lisa said, sticking out her hand and smiling as Felicia took it. "I'm Lisa Reisert."

"It's nice to meet you too," Felicia said. "Now, if you'll follow me."

She led Lisa off down a hallway, towards the bathrooms.

* * *

"What do you mean it's burned to the ground?" Joe Reisert roared, slamming his fists on the table and jumping to his feet. The two policemen sitting across from him got to their feet swiftly, glancing at one another.

"Mr. Reisert, nothing's certain yet. There have been several bodies recovered, but not one of them belongs to your daughter."

"Well if they're not in there, then where can they be?" Joe asked desperately. "Lisa's a smart girl. If she was still alive, she would have left some sign, some way of letting us know she…"

Suddenly, the door opened, and another policeman stuck his head into the small office.

"Greene, we've got a woman here who says she spoke with Lisa Reisert," the man said. Sergeant Greene, a man in his mid forties with graying brown hair, nodded.

"Send her in, Tomelson," he said. Tomelson nodded and ducked his head out. A moment later, a woman walked in looking frazzled and out of focus. She had short brown hair that was pulled into a bun, and was wearing a knee-length black skirt and a blouse that was once white but covered in soot and ashes from the fire. Greene looked her in the eye fiercely. "Your name?" he asked.

"Angela Bennington," the woman replied, looking around at the other men in the room nervously.

"Angela Bennington, this is Officer Paul O'Neil, Joe Reisert, and I'm Sergeant Brian Greene. You say you have some information concerning Lisa Reisert?"

"Yes," Angela said quietly. "I do. I worked at Rourke Insurance Agency, and today Mr. Allen, he worked there, but hadn't been there in a very long time, showed up with a woman who he said was his wife. She seemed fine at first; laughing and joking with him. But then they went downstairs for something, and when they came out of the elevator, Mrs. Allen was crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she said that a member of the family had died. Mr. Allen was hugging her, and I didn't think anything was odd at all, but after the building set on fire, she ran out of Mr. Allen's room with a huge knife in her hands, and it was completely covered in blood. I didn't know what to do, but then she told me that her name was Lisa Reisert and that a man named Anthony Meyers had kidnapped her."

Joe noticed that Greene flinched when he heard the name.

"What?" he asked. "You know this guy?"

"Let's just say there's some old business between us," Greene said bitterly, his weathered face frowning disapprovingly. "And let's just say it's not friendly business."

"Is he dangerous?" Joe asked with fright.

"Oh, I'd say so," Greene said. "But fortunately for you, he's dead."

"What?" Joe asked, a sigh of relief leaving him.

"His body was found in relatively unburnt condition, with several bullet holes in him. Good shots; right to the heart on a few of them. I'm guessing he was already dead and someone kept going." Greene looked at Joe knowingly. "Someone who really had a thing against him; really didn't like him."

"Are you saying that it was Lisa who shot him?" Joe asked with sudden understanding.

"I'm not at all sure, Mr. Reisert. This is all speculation. But think about it. Your daughter somehow gets her hands on a weapon in the chaos; you think she's just going to carry it around and threaten people with it, or do you think she's going to want to get out of that burning building as fast as she possibly can?"

"She's going to want to get out of the building," Joe said as if the answer were obvious.

"And how's she going to do that if she's got Mr. Meyers trying to keep her back and keep her where she is? She's going to have problems getting out of there. But if she shoots him, she gets him out of her way, and she's free to go."

"Well if she's free to go, then where is she?" Joe asked bitterly. "Because I know Lisa, and I know that she would come back here if she was given a choice."

"Did you ever consider that maybe there was a reason that these men want her, Mr. Reisert?" Greene asked. "They want her and they're not letting go of her without a fight; men like that rarely do. If your daughter is as smart as you say she is, and I do not doubt your word, Mr. Reisert, then she's going to know this. She's going to want to stay away."

"But don't you think she would have tried to contact me?" Joe asked bitterly.

"Umm…I have some more information," said Angela suddenly in a timid voice. The three other heads in the room turned to her.

"Oh," Greene said, blinking in surprise. "I apologize, Ms. Bennington. Please continue with your story."

"Okay," Angela said. "After I was outside in the parking lot, I saw Lisa come running around the side of the building. The knife was hanging through one of her belt loops, and she was bleeding rather heavily, though I didn't see a wound. She looked absolutely dreadful; there was soot all over her face, and she was covered in blood and her hair was a mess…I barely even recognized her. But I eventually realized that it was her, and was about to run over to her, but she jumped into Mr. Allen's car and started to pull out, but this man ran out of the building and tried to stop her. He was a big, beefy man. I think he was one of the security guards. Ben or Steve…I always got the two of them mixed up. But anyway, he started banging on the car door, but she just started driving away really fast. Naturally, when she turned the corner, I ran over to where I could see around the corner, and I just got there in time to see her stop and let Mr. Allen into the car before they both took off."

"Who is this Mr. Allen?" Greene asked. O'Neil looked up expectantly from the notes he was taking.

"Dan Allen," answered Angela He's been working at the Insurance Agency for a while now, though before today, I hadn't seen him in a little over three months. He's very nice, Mr. Allen. He's always been nice to us workers, anyway. And your daughter evidently trusted him enough to let him into the car."

"You're sure she let him in?" Joe asked.

"Well, that's what it looked like," Angela said, shrugging. "There wasn't a struggle."

"But you're not positive," Greene said with a small sigh.

"No," Angela admitted. "I'm not."

Greene sighed and raised his face to the sky, closing his eyes and running a hand over his face tiredly.

"So she's escaped one man only to be possibly kidnapped by another, and taken to an unknown location," Greene remarked. O'Neil began scribbling frantically. Joe put his head in his hands. "What did Mr. Allen look like?"

"He wasn't very tall…maybe five feet and nine inches? Maybe a bit taller than that…I don't really know. He had long brown hair that went down to here." Angela used her hands to show the length of his hair. "And he had these really bright blue eyes."

Joe froze, the mention of the eyes suddenly triggering a memory. He gasped in horror.

* * *

_Lisa froze as the gunshot pierced through the air, and the man in front of them fell to the ground, his mouth open in a silent scream of pain. Lisa fell to her knees beside him, staring at him with shock. She pretended that she wasn't crying, but Joe knew that she was._

_Lisa's eyes met the young man's; he could see the intensity in that gaze. There was something like longing in that young man's crystal blue eyes, but there was nothing but hate in Lisa's. At least, that's what Joe told himself. Hate and disgust and relief that he was finally out of commission. Nothing more._

_No, nothing more as her tears fell onto his bleeding chest. Nothing more as Joe wrapped his arms around her. Nothing more as the young man was led out of the house on the stretcher. And nothing more as she sat in the hospital waiting to hear if he was going to be okay._

_No, she felt nothing for him, he decided. Nothing but hate. But still, that emotion in those blue eyes was enough to haunt him. And it would probably haunt him for the rest of his life.

* * *

_

"Jackson," Joe whispered, his eyes narrowing. "She's been taken by Jackson Rippner."


	12. Wash Away What Happened Last

Okay…so not in the best mood right now…but whatever. I figured now's a good time to update cus if I don't, I'll just be sitting here worrying my ass off. Which I'm pretty much doing anyway…but…onward!

I'm terribly sorry about the shameless Mean Girls reference in the chapter…I really couldn't help myself.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Please, please, please review again!

**Blushing Sigh:** I think you mean Amora and Jimmy…pretty sure anyway. But yeah, Jimmy is a good guy who does the wrong things for the right reasons. That's really what I wanted to get across to the readers, because even though he does some pretty bad things, he's a good guy. It's pretty essential to Lisa's growth and development and what not. (: Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter 12:** Wash Away What Happened Last

_It's time to forget about the past  
**To wash away what happened last**  
Hide behind an empty face  
Don't ask too much, just say  
That this is just a game_

_It's a beautiful lie  
It's the perfect denial  
Such a beautiful lie to believe in  
So beautiful, beautiful it makes me_

_30 Seconds to Mars  
A Beautiful Lie

* * *

_

Jackson stormed out into the hallway at four in the morning, his mouth twisted into an unpleasant scowl. Lisa was gone. He wasn't sure what had happened; if she was gone of her own accord or if someone had somehow taken her, but either way she was in danger, and he had to get to her.

He burst into the center, which was even more empty than it had been when Lisa had entered it a few hours before. People were sitting around, watching TV or reading newspapers. The two to four party was over and the DJ was packing up his things until the next rave in twenty-three hours. The bar was still open, though, and it was there that Jackson went to ask to see if Lisa had been around.

However, he never had to ask because he spotted Lisa as he was about to walk over to the bartender. She and another woman were sitting at a table, drinking. Judging by the way the woman slumped in her seat, and the way Lisa was looking quite sick, they had been drinking a lot.

"I wish the music would come back on," the other woman said bitterly, putting had chin in her hand. "That was fun."

"Yeah," agreed Lisa with a bright smile, taking another sip of what Jackson deduced was a sea breeze.

"Lisa!" he exclaimed as he neared her. She turned to look at him sleepily.

"Jackson!" she exclaimed with surprise. He had to admit; she held her liquor remarkably well for a woman of her size. The seven glasses on her side of the table completely overpowered the four of the other woman's, yet she wasn't nearly as off balance as her companion.

"Where were you?" Jackson asked, feeling relieved that she wasn't hurt.

"I had to go to the bathroom," Lisa said, slurring her words a little as she tried to stand up. Jackson sighed.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get you back to bed. Say goodbye to your friend."

"Honestly, Jackson," Lisa said with a drunken sigh. "I'm not a child!"

Jackson grinned to himself but didn't say anything as he led Lisa out of the room, draping an arm around her waist so she wouldn't fall and hurt herself. He could definitely imagine her doing just that, and he didn't want any injuries.

"Next time you decide to go for a little walk, please wake me up," Jackson said, scolding. Lisa sighed heavily but allowed him to lead her back into the main hallway. Her head lolled against his shoulder comfortably, and she inhaled his scent. It was a scent that was becoming less and less frightening and more and more comforting as the days went by.

"You were tired, though," Lisa said sleepily.

"How much did you drink?" Jackson asked, sighing impatiently.

"A lot," Lisa said with a grimace. "Felicia wanted another one…so she got me another one too. Then, she wanted another, and another, and she kept buying mine too." Lisa looked at Jackson with a pathetically cute little sad expression. "I really needed a drink."

Jackson laughed and shook his head.

"I could use one myself," he remarked. Lisa laughed a little louder than she probably would have, had she been sober. "You're a terrible drunk."

"It's not like I do it often," Lisa grumbled. Jackson pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door to the room. Once they were in there, he led Lisa over to the bed.

"Oh, and Lesse," he said as she lay down beneath the covers. "The bathroom's right in there."

He pointed to a door on the other side of the room, which Lisa had thought was a closet. She blushed slightly but soon forgot about her embarrassing lack of intuition, as her eyes slid slowly closed. Jackson smiled and draped the blanket on top of her again. She smiled slightly in her sleep and murmured something unintelligible before falling still, her only movement the slight rise and fall of her chest. Jackson sighed and collapsed back into his recliner, deciding that some more sleep couldn't hurt him. After all, they had plenty of time to kill, and not much to do. It was going to be a long couple of days.

* * *

A knock sounded at Jimmy's door at seven o'clock in the morning, just as he had gotten up to put on his morning coffee. The short man sighed and walked over to the door, not embarrassed that he was wearing his bathrobe and slippers. Everyone in the underground tunnel had seen him in less, thanks to the embarrassing incident the year before involving spiked punch and strip poker.

Still, he hated when people decided that the best time to bug him would be when he was in his pajamas. And seven o'clock was far too early. It wasn't a workday for him; Wednesdays most of the jobs were handled by his 'generals', as he liked to call them, and he got to relax and go over cases and catch up on anything he was left behind on. He had been looking forward to doing just that when someone had begun knocking at the door.

He threw open the portal as if it were the cause of all his troubles, glaring at the man who stood outside. It was Vincent, again, but this time he was looking troubled. Jimmy considered turning him away, but the poor kid looked so lost that he had to let him in. Jimmy's heart was too big, he decided, and vowed to change that if he could manage, though he knew inwardly that it wasn't going to happen.

"What is it, kid?" he asked, ushering the other man inside and closing the door behind him.

"I've been doing some thinking," Vincent said, wincing at the bright lights in Jimmy's apartment.

"And some drinking, too, apparently," Jimmy said with a small snort. Vincent glared at him.

"Not the point, Jimmy," he said. "What I'm trying to say is…do you think it's such a good idea to trust Jackson so fully? I mean…he's been with the Organization for ten years now. That changes people. Maybe he's not the same guy he was back then."

"Oh, I know he's not the same guy," Jimmy said quietly. "Being in the organization for so long, it does change people. It makes them tougher, less fearful of everything around them. It makes them ruthless, Vincent. Ruthless. But Jackie? Jackie's always gonna be that little twelve year old boy walking down the side of the road in the rain. You know why, Vincent?"

"Why?" Vincent asked curiously.

"Because what happened to him that day, that's the kind of thing that you don't just get over. That's the kind of thing that you keep with you for the rest of your life. And that's the kind of thing that's gonna keep him from falling into that hole that all those Organization assholes fall into. Because he knows where he came from and what got him where he is. He knows that what happened to him is never gonna go away. So yeah, Vincent, we can trust Jackie Rippner. We can trust him to the ends of the earth and back."

Vincent looked down at the ground, obviously not convinced by Jimmy's little speech.

"I was talking to Gregory," he said slowly. Jimmy groaned and rolled his eyes.

"That piece of shit?" he asked. Vincent glared at him.

"He said that maybe it wasn't so smart to trust Jackson," he said carefully.

"Yeah, well Gregory doesn't trust nobody, Vincent. He doesn't even trust himself, and for good reason. Just because he says he doesn't trust Jackson, it doesn't mean that Jackson ain't one to be trusted. Don't listen to the little fucker. He's the biggest dumbass I ever met."

Vincent smiled to himself, and it was clear to Jimmy then that he had only wanted reassurance that he was right in trusting Jackson and not listening to Gregory's words.

"Thanks, Jimmy," he said. "Next time he opens his mouth about Jackson, I'll tell him right."

"You'd better, you dumb fuck," Jimmy said affectionately. "Jackson'd do the same for you, and you know it."

Vincent nodded gravely.

"He would," he replied. "I know he would."

Vincent nodded again and walked towards the door. Then, with a nod towards his mentor, he turned and walked out the door again. Jimmy sighed and sat down at his desk, frowning and running a hand over his face. He hated that the other men didn't trust Jackson with their lives like he did. After so many years, after so many battles fought and won together because of the kid, he thought they'd have learned. But they were just a bunch of ignorant kids who didn't know a damn good man when they saw one. At least, that's what Jimmy told himself. Because deep down inside, he wondered if maybe Gregory was right. It was a small part of him that wondered that, of course, but it was part of him nonetheless.

Shaking the unpleasant thoughts out of his head, he stood up and walked over to his bedroom to get changed.

* * *

Lisa awoke with a terrible headache and no recollection of the night before. Her first thought was that maybe Jackson had drugged her or something, but she vaguely remembered walking around looking for a bathroom, and meeting a woman named Felicia…

Then it all came back in a rush, and she nearly groaned aloud in embarrassment. How could she have actually gotten drunk? She felt so juvenile. Lisa Reisert did not get drunk at bars. At least, not often. Though in the past three months the trips to the bar had become increasingly more frequent.

She sat up and looked around the room, not surprised when she saw Jackson moving around, straightening the paintings on the walls

"Good morning," he said to her, without turning to face her. It was actually very unsurprising. He was going to have to get some new stuff if he wanted to keep shocking her.

"Morning," she said sleepily, her hand fluttering to her head. Jackson turned to face her, smiling slightly.

"I suppose you have a headache," he said, walking over and holding out some tablets. She took them gratefully, not even caring at this point what they were. Jackson handed her a glass of water, and she downed the pills. "I'm making some coffee as well."

"Thanks," Lisa said, rubbing her hand over her face. "I cannot believe I did that last night. That's so…not me."

"I know," Jackson said with a small chuckle. "I was surprised, myself. It certainly didn't seem like the type of thing that you'd do."

"I don't even know how it happened," Lisa said, cringing. "I just ordered one drink and sort of lost control."

"The drinks here are a little stronger than you might find them other places," Jackson said in a confidential tone. "People don't often go to the bars to do some light drinking; they go to the restaurants for that. No, people who go to the bars want to get drunk. They're drowning their sorrows."

"That explains it, then," Lisa said bitterly, rolling her eyes. "I wish Felicia would have told me that."

"People who live here often forget how different things are in the real world," Jackson said with a laugh.

"Great," Lisa said, sighing.

"We've got some good news, though," Jackson said cheerfully.

"What?" Lisa asked, surprised.

"I called Cynthia last night when you were sleeping. She was at the hotel still, and some of Anthony's guys were watching her. But she said she was going to call the police. Of course, it took a little bit of convincing…she doesn't seem to trust me very much. I'm assuming she did it though. But now we can't call her. If she's gone to the police, it would be too risky.

"We could go somewhere else and call her," Lisa suggested. "Somewhere far away, and we could be back here before they could even trace the call."

"I suggested that to Jimmy," Jackson said, sounding pissed off. "Jimmy said it was better to not take the risk. His life is in these walls, Leese. I couldn't do anything that would potentially cause him harm. Just by being here, I'm doing that. I couldn't risk making it worse."

Lisa nodded. She, unbelievably, understood. She felt it too; that unwillingness to risk discovery, though she had only been there for less than a day.

"So how do we know if she's all right?" Lisa asked.

"It's all taken care of," Jackson said with a small grin. Lisa glanced at him questioningly, but he just smirked and walked over to the table to get the coffee, leaving her to wonder what he meant behind him.

* * *

"Excuse me…hi, my name is James," said the man at the counter of the Lux. He was speaking to Dan, who was the only one at the desk at the moment. "I'm looking for Cynthia. Is she in?"

"No," said Dan with just a hint of suspicion. "Why?"

"I'm her brother," James said, pushing his long blonde hair out of his eyes. "Can't you see the resemblance?"

Dan gave him a blank look.

"Not really, no," he said, still looking suspicious. James began to look worried.

"There's something wrong with her, isn't there?" he asked, taking a deep breath. "Oh God, there is, isn't there? What aren't you telling me?"

He was starting to hyperventilate. Dan cursed the day he had ever stepped foot in the Lux Atlantic.

"Please, sir," he said in as calm a voice as he could manage. "Cynthia's okay. I just need you to calm down. You say you're her brother?"

"I am her brother!" James exclaimed indignantly. "Where is she?"

"She's just down at the police station. She…"

"The police?" James asked hysterically, grabbing fistfuls of his blonde hair. "Oh my God what's happened?"

"Nothing serious," Dan said rationally. "Her friend Lisa Reisert is being held captive and Cynthia has recently come forward with some information that could help find her. That's all. She's not in any danger."

"Oh thank God," James said with a heavy sigh, leaning against the desk, panting as if he had just run three miles. "It's hard, being the older brother. I'm constantly worrying about her. Not that you did any good you bastard! You should have just told me right off instead of giving me those little glances."

"I wasn't sure if you were another one of those men that was here," Dan explained hurriedly. "Look, I don't know the full story myself, but I'm sure the police can tell you. Do you want me to call Cynthia now and tell her you're here?"

"No, no, that's all right," James said absently. "I have her number, thank you. And I'll be sure to tell her what a grand help you've been." He glared at Dan disdainfully and whipped out his cell phone, muttering something about stupid fools and talking to the manager as he walked out towards the front doors.

"Hello?" he said once the person on the other line had picked up. "Cynthia? Yes, it's James. Where are you? What? The police station? What address?" he paused and glared back at Dan once more before exiting the hotel and walking down the street, away from the hotel. "All right, she's at the police station," he said. "You did it. Anything else, or am I good to come back now?"

* * *

"No, that's it," Jackson said into the pay phone in the center with a smile. "Thanks, Vincent. I'm sure you did marvelously."

"Oh, you have no idea," came the voice from the other line. "The kid probably pissed his pants."

"I'm sure," Jackson said with a small chuckle. "See you when you get back."

"Later," Vincent replied, and then the line went dead. Jackson hung the phone up on the wall and turned to Lisa.

"It's good," he said, smirking slightly. "She's safe."

"Thank God," Lisa said with a relieved sigh. She felt tears coming but pushed them back viciously, swallowing the lump in her throat and smiling at Jackson as radiantly as she could. "What now?"

"Now we have to go talk to Jimmy," Jackson replied. "Knowing him, the old bat has been up all night working on some kind of plan. It should be absolutely failproof by now."

"Comforting," Lisa said, nodding. "Meaning…I could be out of here soon?"

"It's possible," Jackson said with a smile.

"And what about Keefe?" Lisa asked. "Is he going to be all right?"

"He should be," Jackson said indifferently, waving his hand. "Unless Andropov had a backup plan…in which case he could be in very serious trouble. But no matter because I'm sure the police will be swarming all over him. What we should be worrying about is getting Andropov off your tail."

"You really think he's going to just give up?" Lisa asked bitterly. "You think you're going to be able to persuade him to leave me alone?"

"No," Jackson said. "I think we're going to have to kill him."

Smiling pleasantly at the open-mouthed shock that Lisa displayed, Jackson turned and walked towards Jimmy's apartment.

"Wait, wait, wait," Lisa said, hurrying to catch up with him. "We have to kill him?"

"Yes," Jackson said, sighing heavily and turning back to face her. "Leese, I know you have problems with the whole killing people thing, but this really isn't the time. And Andropov might as well not be a person. This man is the meanest of all mean men. If there is one person on the world I think you would actually enjoy killing, it's him."

"You're not saying that I have to kill him, are you?" Lisa asked incredulously.

"I'm not saying anything," Jackson replied. "We haven't talked to Jimmy yet."

He turned around yet again and continued walking, as Lisa followed after him with a scowl on her pretty features.

* * *

"You're absolutely sure?" Sergeant Brian Greene asked Joe Reisert. "You're absolutely sure that it's Jackson Rippner who took her?"

"Positive," Joe replied. "He has a motive, he has the means, and the eyes…he has very distinctive eyes. I know it's him."

"We can't just jump to conclusions," Sergeant Greene said. "And besides, even if it was him, we've been looking for him since he escaped from the hospital. The chances of us finding him are very slim."

"But it's him, I know it is," Joe exclaimed passionately. "And why can't you find him? Your men can do that kind of thing, can't they? Isn't that what the police are for?"

"If Jackson Rippner doesn't want to be found, then Jackson Rippner's not going to be found," Sergeant Greene said with a heavy sigh.

"So are you saying you're just going to give up?" Joe asked, his face registering disbelief. "You're the goddamned police! You can't just let her go because this guy is good at what he does. "

"Look, Mr. Reisert…" Sergeant Greene said slowly. "I know Jackson Rippner probably a lot better than anyone else in this force does. I knew him when he was a kid, just twelve years old. Have you ever heard of Angelia Davis? The artist?"

"Yeah, my wife left some of her paintings behind when we divorced," Joe said indifferently.

"Do you remember hearing what happened to her?" Sergeant Greene asked.

"My wife said she was murdered," Joe said, thinking back with a wistful look on his face. "She saw it on TV."

"Angelia Davis was murdered by her own husband, Mr. Reisert," Sergeant Greene said. "Because he discovered that she was planning on leaving him for another man." He sighed and ran a hand through his short brown hair. "He was a jealous man, David. He didn't take kindly to the news that his wife was leaving him, though he should have expected it. He was an abusive husband, and an abusive father." He gave Joe a pointed look. "They had a twelve year old boy, though he may as well have been eight. He was a tiny fella. He came home that day to find his mother lying on the kitchen floor, dying."

"That's horrible," Joe said, immersed in the story despite himself.

"Yes, especially since David came back a few minutes later to finish the job," Sergeant Greene said. "Now, no one's quite sure of what happened, then. No one but the kid. But somehow that boy got his hands on a gun, and he shot his old man. When he realized that he'd just killed his father, he took off, and the police never found him. We looked for him though. Day and night, we looked for him. A few days after he went missing, my old buddy Jimmy Paton, showed up at the house asking for the kid's stuff. I didn't ask any questions, but I knew the boy was with him. Jimmy had a soft spot for orphans. I let him take whatever he needed…and I never saw the crazy old shit again. Heard of him from time to time, doing some illegal activity, but I never actually saw him. Never saw the poor kid again either. He was supposed to be mine, you know. In Angelia's will, she said that she wanted me to take care of the kid." He sighed heavily and looked at Joe pointedly again. "I was supposed to take care of him and raise him right if David ever found out about me and Angelia. But that never happened, and that kid grew up on the wrong side of the tracks."

"It was Jackson, wasn't it?" Joe asked sadly.

"David Rippner and Angelia Davis's only son," Sergeant Greene said with a nod. "Sweet kid. Wouldn't hurt a fly."

"And he grew up to be the monster he is now," Joe said with disgust.

"He's not a monster," Sergeant Greene said, shaking his head. "No, not a monster. He's a man who's lived a hard life and has been forced to adapt to it."

"He kidnapped my daughter," Joe said through clenched teeth, all sympathy for the little boy gone. "Twice, now!"

"We're not even sure if he kidnapped her," Sergeant Greene reminded Joe. "We're not even sure if it's him!"

"Lisa would never go with him willingly," Joe said with conviction. "She wouldn't."

* * *

Across the city, Lisa was quite willingly walking alongside Jackson towards Jimmy's apartment, her scowl replaced with an easy smile.

"Yeah, field hockey was sort of a way to get all the stress out," she explained. "My therapist suggested it as a way to channel my rage." She laughed slightly. "I was kind of a mean girl in high school."

"Really?" Jackson asked, laughing and looking at her with surprise. "I can't imagine that!"

"Yeah," Lisa said, sighing and shaking her head. "I'm so embarrassed of it now, it's ridiculous. If I ever see anyone from my high school, they always bring it up. It's horrible."

"I'm usually good at picturing things," Jackson said, looking like he was trying to think. "But that's just not coming to me."

"I changed a lot," Lisa admitted.

"Well, I've changed a lot since I was younger," Jackson said with a small snort. Lisa chuckled.

"I'd hope so," she said. "I can imagine a ten year old you running around terrorizing the neighbors by holding their pets hostage."

Jackson laughed and shook his head.

"No," he said. "I was the kid being terrorized at that age."

He reached Jimmy's door and knocked.

"Really?" Lisa asked, a small smile spreading across her face. "I'm having trouble seeing that."

"Is it that hard to see me as someone nice?" Jackson asked, pretending to be hurt.

"Yes," Lisa replied in an almost flirtatious manner (though she denied it to even herself), pretending to be serious.

"Ouch," Jackson said with a smirk as the door opened, and Lisa smiled at him once more before walking into the room.

"Good morning," Jimmy said cheerfully. "Now, last night I did some thinking, and I think I have a way to get to Andropov with minimal risk."

Jackson gave Lisa a look as if to say 'told you', and she smiled.

"Good," Jackson said. "I knew you would, Jimmy. What is it?"

"We're going to need four men," Jimmy said. "And two women." He glanced at Lisa pointedly. She bit her lip.

"Does it need to be me?" she asked.

"Yes," Jimmy said in a tone that radiated regret. "And I'm sorry…but this is the best I could come up with. But don't worry… Jackson will be with you the entire time."

Lisa wouldn't let herself admit that hearing that gave her a great sense of relief. She let out a deep breath slowly and nodded, steeling herself and reminding herself that this was for her own good.

"I just have one question," she said. Jackson mimed shooting himself in the head. Lisa glared at him jokingly.

"What is it?" Jimmy asked kindly.

"Are you doing this all for me?" Lisa asked. "I mean…are you putting all these men at risk just for me?"

"We're putting these men at risk for you, yes," Jimmy said slowly. "But this is really just an opportunity to do what we've always wanted to do; take down Andropov for good."

"All right," Lisa said, and Jackson could see that she was relieved that it wasn't just for her. He felt himself shaking his head, and he smiled slightly. He didn't think it was possible for a woman under the age of forty to be so giving who wasn't a nun.

"May I continue?" Jimmy asked. Lisa nodded. Jimmy took her arm and walked them over to his desk, where a plan was carefully sketched out.

"Vincent is going to play our lead man," Jimmy said. "He's going to use an alias that has already been carefully prepared. Jonathan McCarthy is going to be his name. We already have all the backup information scattered on databases nationwide, so if they run any checks, he'll come up clean." He turned to Lisa. "Andropov likes to have the trust of his customers, so this 'honesty' will be a good first impression."

"Good," Lisa murmured, looking down at the plan where Vincent's picture was neatly glued, a few notes scribbled beneath it.

"That's the kind of stuff you're good at, right, Leese?" Jackson asked with a smile. "First impressions, keeping up appearances, the importance of details…all things that a hotel desk manager needs to know how to do."

"Right," Lisa said, turning to look at him with a grin.

"Good," Jimmy said. "Then I won't have to explain everything to you. But…anyway. The little shit will call up Andropov from a landline in the city somewhere saying that he has information on your whereabouts. Then he has to slip in that Jackson has you in his custody, and they're going to pretend to negotiate with Andropov, trying to get him to forgive Jackson for his royal fuck up if they'll give him you. They're going to take you to wherever Andropov wants to meet, probably a warehouse somewhere knowing that clichéd bastard. Gregory and Philippe will go with you to be Vincent's bodyguards."

"What about the other woman?" Jackson asked.

"Scarlett Carver," Jimmy said. "Bennie Carver's sister. She's already in Andropov's inner circle thanks to an assignment that she's working on involving his right hand man. She's going to be sympathetic towards your case, and she's going to be able to get you right in there."

"Wait…and how are you planning on killing him?" Lisa asked. Jimmy sighed.

"I'm not going to lie to you," he said in a serious voice that frightened Lisa. "This place ain't gonna be no picnic to get into. Especially with a weapon. But Scarlett's gonna be able to slip you one when you get in there."

"What…me?" Lisa asked, her voice squeaking slightly. Jimmy nodded gravely.

"She's gonna have to brush up against you to give it to you," he said. "She's gonna slip it into your pocket. Now, Andropov's a real jealous guy, and he's got a little thing for Scarlett, so if she goes brushing up against another man, he's gonna get a little suspicious or a lot mad. Either way, that's not good."

"Don't worry, Leese," Jackson said. "All you have to do is shoot him."

"But what about the guards?" Lisa asked. "They're going to have guns, aren't they?"

"Oh, definitely," Jimmy said with a small snort, his mustache twitching. "But as soon as you fire the first shot, it'll all be taken care of. Gregory and Philippe will take care of the two guards he will have, while Scarlett will take care of the right hand man, and Vincent and Jackson will get you out of the way."

Lisa looked at Jackson worriedly.

"There's no other way," he said. "Don't worry about it. We'll practice it so many times you'll be a pro."

"I'm sure there's got to be another way," Lisa said stubbornly. "This can't be the only plan."

"I've gone over it a thousand times," Jimmy said. "Sniper's impossible; the man doesn't go near windows anymore. A inside plant would take weeks, maybe months. His security's too tight to have a drive-by or a stealth…and I know no one wants to do a suicide. This is the only way we got."

Lisa had no idea what the hell Jimmy was talking about, but she got the point.

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath and exhaling. "I guess…I guess I'll have to do it."

"Good," Jimmy said, nodding and folding up the plan with decisive movements. "Then it's settled. This will go down in a few days. In that time, you'll get more practice than a fucking baseball team. Jackie, get together Gregory and Philippe, and get some more people to help you practice to fill in for Scarlet and Andropov and the guards. Vincent will be back soon, then you gotta fill him in and shit. Can you handle that?"

"Of course I can handle it," Jackson said with a smile. Lisa, observing him, noticed that he looked like he had just come home after years away. This was his element; he knew what he was doing here. She smiled slightly. She could never understand how he did what he did and still managed to remain at least somewhat human, but he did it, and she found herself developing some respect for him.

"Good," Jimmy said again. "Now get outta here so I can get back to doing nothing."

Jackson and Lisa both laughed, and they walked out of the room with a clear purpose in their minds.

* * *

Harrison was lying in bed beside his girlfriend when his cell phone began to vibrate on the bedside table. Immediately, his hands reached under his pillow, and his breathing quickened as his hands tightened on the gun that was stowed beneath it. With a trembling hand, he reached out to grab the cell phone.

"Hello?" he said quietly into it, as to not wake Adriana.

"Harrison," said the steely cold voice on the other line. "Where are you?"

"Sleeping," Harrison answered. "Why?"

"I need you to get to the Miami International Airport in three hours," the voice on the other line continued.

"Who is this?" Harrison asked, frowning.

"It's Hillman," the voice replied. "Get there, or she dies."

Harrison's mouth dropped open in horror as the line went dead, and he shakily hung up the phone before rousing Adriana and telling her to get in the car and drive as far away as she could. Once she was gone, he put his head in his hands and got dressed, straightening his tie and looking in the mirror before telling himself, just like he told himself every time this happened, that it was just one more job. Just one more.

* * *

Hillman hung up the phone and turned to Andropov, a smile appearing on his weathered face.

"He's coming," he said. "Now all we have to do is find Jackson Rippner, and we will find Lisa Reisert."

"Good," Andropov said. Towering over Hillman, he looked very imposing with his shaggy brown hair and his wild eyes. Hillman thought that he looked rather like a caveman. Of course, he never would have spoken the thought aloud. Saying stuff like that could get you shot, or worse. "And make sure nothing goes wrong this time, or it's your ass."

He turned and walked away, leaving Hillman behind him with a scowl on his face.

"How's your back, sir?" Ben asked him, pretending to care.

"Fine, Ben," Hillman said, reaching a hand to where the spot was just beginning to get a little sore. "I think I need more medication."

Ben nodded and walked over to where Johnson and Derrick were standing, probably asking them for medication. Hillman didn't really care. He could deal with the pain if he had to, as long as Lisa Reisert would be his. And she would be his soon enough. He would teach her what happened to those who tried to kill Alexander Hillman.


	13. The Ultimate Defense is to Pretend

Sorry for the long wait! I had a busyyy weekend. Hehehe. A good one though. Really good one. But now I figure it's time to update! Haha.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and please review again! I LOVE reviews! Hahaha. But you know that. :D

**DollyMomma:** Thank you so, so much! Your review made me glow with happiness, haha. I'm so glad you like it, and does your daughter like it too? I hope so, haha. Thank you so much for the review and the praise. It's greatly appreciated :D.

* * *

**Chapter 13: **The Ultimate Defense is to Pretend

_A revolution has begun for me today inside  
__**The ultimate defense is to pretend  
**Revolve around yourself just like an ordinary man  
The only other option's to forget.  
Does it feel like we've never been alive?  
Does it seem like we've only just begun?_

_30 Seconds to Mars  
R-evolve

* * *

_

"Okay, good. Now raise the gun up like that…good, very good. Aim…right, just like that. Now squeeze."

Lisa squeezed the trigger, flinching as it went off. The bullet tore through the head of the dummy, the fabric tearing easily and a large chunk falling to the ground.

"Very nice," Jackson said with a smirk. "Amazing, Leese, really. You have good aim."

"Field hockey," Lisa said, grinning up at Jackson.

"You're better than I could ever hope to be," Jackson laughed. "Now, let's try it again. But this time quicker. You're only going to have a few seconds to get this shot, Leese."

They were down below the rest of the complex, where no one would be able to hear the gunshots. It was the place where all the orphans were taught how to use weapons. There were several areas; basic training, advanced training, and master training, as well as several practice ranges. That was where Lisa and Jackson were stationed. On Jimmy's orders, they were the only ones in the giant room, so Lisa would feel more comfortable.

"Remember," Jackson said offhand as he settled back against the wall to watch. "Andropov will most likely be wearing a bulletproof vest of some kind. You have to aim for the head."

"Aim for the head," Lisa repeated, raising the gun and pulling the trigger. The bullet clipped the side of the dummy's head.

"Nice try," Jackson said. "Not bad all, considering."

"Any pointers?" Lisa asked, raising the goggles to rest against her forehead so she could have a clearer view of her instructor.

"Just focus a little more clearly," Jackson said. "Don't worry so much about speed right now. Just go as fast as you can, but still hit the target. We'll increase your speed slowly."

"Okay," Lisa said, taking Jackson's words very seriously as she prepared to aim again. This time she went at her own speed. Jackson spotted Vincent watching them from the other side of the complex.

"Give me a sec, Leese," he said. "Keep practicing that, all right?"

"Yeah," Lisa said, taking another shot. It went right through the dummy's eye. Jackson smirked before turning and walking through the maze of bulletproof glass cages to where Vincent was leaning against one of the clear walls. They stood facing each other for a moment, both of them with their hands shoved into their pockets.

"She's pretty good," Vincent said. "Especially for a beginner."

"Field hockey," Jackson said, watching as Lisa yet again shot through the dummy's eye. "Apparently it has something to do with your aim."

"Wouldn't know," Vincent said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up. Jackson made a face of disgust. He still hated that habit. "Just came down here in case you needed help."

"I think I'm okay," Jackson said. "Have you talked to Gregory and Philippe yet?"

"Yeah," Vincent said. "They're being prepped right now. I just need to make the call and set the date and time." He took a puff of his cigarette and watched Lisa shoot and barely clip the dummy's ear, smiling slightly as her face wrinkled into a displeased frown. "I feel bad that she has to be involved in this," he said.

"Yeah," Jackson said, running a hand through his hair as he watched her. "If I had only chosen a different person for that Keefe job…Andropov wouldn't have even heard of Lisa Reisert."

"I know…it sucks. But trust me…going over that in your head again and again ain't gonna make it any better. She's here now and all you can do to make it better is make it go away." He started to walk away, patting Jackson on the back as he did. "You can fix it, Jackie. You can do what I never got to do. You remember Sophie LaRochelle?"

Jackson smiled sadly and nodded, biting his lip as the memories flooded him.

"I remember," he chocked out barely.

"Don't let Lisa end up like her," Vincent said.

"I won't," Jackson whispered, his eyes firmly on Lisa. _I won't_.

* * *

_"Run! Jackson, get your ass out of here!" Vincent shouted raggedly as the bullets tore through the air all around them._

_"Dammit, why didn't we see them?" Jackson asked. Vincent pulled Sophie in front of him._

_"Run, goddammit!" he screamed at her. She was crying too hard to move fast enough, and he had to dodge behind a stone wall to avoid the bullets. Jackson was already pulling out his gun._

_"There's too many of them," he said, even as he readied his weapon._

_"I need you to calm down," Vincent said to Sophie, who was now in hysterics._

_"I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you!" she yelled, tears coursing down her cheeks. "You fucking idiot!"_

_Vincent ignored her and pulled out his weapon, peeking around the corner of the wall and firing, hitting one of the men in the head. He toppled off the wall. Jackson shot and, predictably, missed. Suddenly, Vincent felt a movement behind him. He turned around just as Sophie decided to make a run for it._

_"What the fuck is she doing?" Jackson yelled over the noise of the gunfire. Vincent never got the chance to answer because in the next moment one of the machine guns opened fire, and Sophie's dancing body slammed into the ground, her cold and lifeless eyes staring at him accusingly before closing slowly.

* * *

_

Jackson walked slowly back over to Lisa, watching as she shot the weapon again and hit the dummy square between the eyes. He smiled sadly and cleared his throat. She turned to face him.

"I think I'm getting better at this," she said proudly. "It's not all that hard."

"Hey, not for you, maybe," Jackson said pointedly. "Some of us aren't so fortunate."

"Yeah, like you," Lisa said with a snort. She raised the gun and fired quickly, hitting the dummy in the forehead, just above where she had hit it before. Jackson's eyebrows raised; he was impressed.

"Wow," he said simply. Lisa nodded smugly and turned to face him, a confident grin on her face.

"I'm a quick learner," he said.

"I can see that," he replied, his eyebrows still raised.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Keep practicing that," Jackson said, pulling out a stopwatch. "I want you to have less than a second between pulling it out of your pocket and shooting him. Maybe if you get good enough, you can even take out the guards."

"Maybe," Lisa said with a smirk, trying to appear unafraid and unaffected by the thought that she was going to have to kill a person; maybe more than one. Jackson didn't mention the fact that he could see right through her; there was no need. She already knew he could tell she wasn't as cocky as she appeared. The confidence was just an automatic defense mechanism. "What did Vincent want?" Lisa asked, shooting yet again.

"Just to talk about the thing," Jackson said, shrugging. "Nothing to worry about." He leaned against the wall. "Now, take this jacket, here."

He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to her. She put down the gun gently and put it over her clothes, smiling slightly at how large it was on her.

"It looks good," Jackson said with a small laugh. "I'm going to make sure that you're wearing this very jacket the day we go, all right? No surprises."

"Okay," Lisa said, taking a deep breath. "No surprises."

"When Scarlett gives you the gun, she's going to slip it into your pocket, there," Jackson said, taking the gun from Lisa and slipping it into the left pocket subtly. "But you have to wait for the signal."

"Signal?" Lisa asked, evidently surprised. "No one mentioned a signal before."

"It's probably going to be a verbal code," Jackson said, shrugging. "Something unobvious, like 'okay' or 'take it away' or something like that."

"And when I hear that, I take the gun out of my pocket and shoot him," Lisa said doubtfully. Jackson nodded.

"This is so stupid," Lisa said with a groan. "You can't seriously tell me that this is the only way to kill this guy. What about Scarlett? Why can't she just kill him?"

"Because if she kills him in his house, in his complex, then his men are gonna swarm her. Leese, this is the only way. Don't worry. You're going to be fine."

Lisa sighed shakily and ran a hand through her hair, nodding.

"All right," she said. "Time it."

Jackson held up the stopwatch.

"Go!" he exclaimed, and they began their practice.

* * *

Sergeant Brian Greene picked up the phone in his office after Joe Reisert had left, dialing a number he only vaguely remembered and hoping that it was the same one.

"Hello?" came the gravely voice on the other line. Brian smiled despite himself.

"Hey, Jimmy. You old bat, it's me, Brian."

"Brian!" Jimmy exclaimed, his voice giving away his enthusiasm. "You piece of shit, I've missed you!"

"I've missed you too, pal. But you know how risky it is for me to drop by there."

"Yeah, I know," Jimmy said sadly. "The whole 'illegal' thing doesn't usually do it for your superiors, huh?"

"Not really, no," Brian said with a laugh. "But I decided to call you after some recent evidence in a case I'm working on points to the kid."

"Jackie?" Jimmy asked, knowing that Brian never really liked saying Jackson's full name; not after what his bastard father had done to the woman he loved.

"Yeah," Brian said quietly. "You know anything about a woman named Lisa Reisert?"

The long silence on the other line was followed by a heavy sigh.

"I'm in a position right now, Brian," Jimmy said sadly. "And now you're going to be in one too. I'm going to tell you all of this as a friend, and not as a witness, and when I'm done explaining things, you can decide what to do with the information I give you, all right?"

"All right," Brian said, already not liking where this was going.

"Lisa Reisert is with Jackie," Jimmy said slowly, as if talking to a child. "But, she's with him of her own free will."

"What?" Brian asked incredulously. That was definitely not something he had been expecting.

"It's a disgustingly long story, and I ain't even sure if I understand it, but basically Jackie lied to the Organization to protect Lisa, got her out of there during that mess with the fire, and now they're holed up here in his old apartment so they can stop Yuri Andropov from exacting some kind of psychotic revenge on her."

There was a long silence on the other line.

"You're kidding, right?" Brian asked. "What would Yuri Andropov want with Lisa Reisert?"

"Honestly…I don't think even he knows. I think it started as some sort of damn ego booster thing; since she fucked up the Keefe job, he fucks up her, you know? But now it's just some sort of out of control thing where he's gotta prove to everyone that no girl's gonna stand in his way of doing whatever the hell he wants to do." Jimmy chuckled slightly. "Though, from what I hear, she's doing a good job of it."

"Glad to hear it," Brian said, rolling his eyes slightly. It always seemed that Jimmy could find something lighthearted in the most serious of events. "So she's all right? Unharmed?"

"She's in tiptop condition," Jimmy replied. "She's even been smiling; something I'm sure she hasn't done it a while."

Brian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Jimmy," he said seriously. "You realize that by withholding this information, I am going to have to pretend to search for clues, while discrediting any that are actually valuable…basically leading Mr. Reisert and myself on a wild goose chase for his only child?"

"She's all right, though," Jimmy reminded Brian, as if he was bribing him. "And you can tell the man if you want to…but only if you think that he's an understanding and caring individual such as yourself."

"You're lucky I like you so much," Brian said accusingly. "Or I'd be inclined to turn in this information."

"You do whatever the hell you want, Sergeant," Jimmy said. "But if you return Lisa Reisert to her home, Andropov can and will find her, and he will kill her. What's more important…a few lost days or the life of a beautiful young woman in her prime?"

Brian was silent for a long moment.

"All right," he said. "As long as she's unharmed, I can go along with that."

"Good," Jimmy said, all the harshness that had been in his earlier statement evaporating. "Is that all, sergeant?"

"That's all, Jimmy," Brian said with a sigh, running a hand over his face tiredly. "You know, I really should bust your ass."

Both of them knew that wasn't ever going to happen. It was a threat Brian made many times, but he would never follow through on it.

"We do your jobs for you, Greene," Jimmy said seriously. "Only instead of making the taxpayers spend valuable dollars feeding and clothing the bastards, we get rid of them permanently."

"It's still murder, you know," Brian said.

"Don't lie to me; you know you approve of this method. That's why you ain't given me a serious warning yet."

"I know," Brian said, wincing slightly. "Don't rub it in you asshole."

"Hey, that's what I do best," Jimmy said with a chuckle. Brian sighed.

"All right, I'd better go," he said. "I'll call back tomorrow to see how she's doing."

"Okay, you do that," Jimmy said. "She's in good hands, Brian. There ain't nobody in the world I'd trust her with more than Jackie."

"Me neither," Brian said, and he hung up the phone with a heavy weight on his shoulders that he knew all too well.

* * *

"We're doing it tomorrow," Vincent said to Jackson as they sat at the bar, hunched over their drinks. Lisa and Felicia were talking in low voices over at the café next door, and Jackson could see her as she took a sip of her drink and listened intently to whatever the other woman was saying.

"Tomorrow?" he asked, turning to face Vincent again, looking pained. "That's too soon. We have to get everything down perfect…"

"We have to do it tomorrow," Vincent said, shaking his head. "I tried to get him to let us do it in a few days, but he says it's tomorrow or not at all."

"All right," Jackson said, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "I suppose we'll just have to practice double today then."

"Yeah," Vincent said, looking discouraged. "Sorry, man. I really did try…"

"It's all right," Jackson said, patting his friend on the back. "You did what you could."

"Yeah," Vincent said again, though he didn't sound convinced. "You think she's going to be okay with it?"

"Oh, she'll flip out, but she'll do what she has to do," Jackson said. "She seems to do well under pressure anyway."

"I hope so," Vincent said, shaking his head. "Because she's going to be under a lot of pressure tomorrow."

Jackson turned and looked at Lisa, who was now laughing at something Felicia said, looking bright and happy for the first time since he had met her. He sighed and turned back to his drink, drinking it in one gulp and slamming the empty shot glass on the bar.

"Yeah," he muttered. "I know."

Vincent patted him on the back sympathetically and stood up.

"See you later, buddy," he said. "We should meet for practice in about a half hour."

Jackson nodded and waved off his friend. Vincent walked off into the crowd of people, leaving Jackson behind to reflect on something only he knew.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when Jackson, Lisa, Vincent, Philippe, Gregory, Felicia, Sal, Jimmy, and a man named Frank were finally done practicing. Jimmy was satisfied, Vincent was satisfied, and Lisa was finally able to shoot a moving target in under a second only a moment before Jackson shoved her out of the way.

"You're going to be fine," Jackson assured Lisa. "Don't worry."

"How can I not worry?" Lisa asked as they walked over to the café and sat down at one of the tables. In the center of the room, a party was going on. The DJ yelled something, and the crowd of dancers went wild. "This is probably the most dangerous thing I've ever done. What if something happens and they end up taking me?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her eyes widened, as if she had just realized that that could happen.

"It's not going to happen," Jackson reassured her. "You'll be fine."

"Yeah," said Felicia, pulling up a chair and sitting beside Lisa. "You were amazing, Lisa. Seriously, amazing. Bennie would have loved to see that. He's always trying to get me to be a pro at shooting a gun."

"If it was just shooting the gun, I could handle it," Lisa said bitterly. "But there's so many other things that I have to watch out for. All the things to watch, all the rules…it's like first learning how to drive a car and finding out that it's not as simple as just turning the wheel around and going straight down the street. You gotta look out for pedestrians, police, other cars…I'm not the kind of person who can handle all that!"

"I know," Jackson said. "But you're going to be fine. My first big assignment…trust me, I was just as nervous as you are. But I did fine, because I practiced like crazy and knew the whole thing inside and out. You're like me in that sense, Leese. You like to understand exactly what you're working with. If you understand every angle and if we go over the blueprints of the warehouse tomorrow, then you're going to be absolutely fine."

"I can't help but be nervous," Lisa said defensively. "I'm not used to this waiting thing. Every other time I've been kidnapped…which is beginning to become a lot more frequent; I never had the time to be nervous about it. I hate the…"

She seemed to be looking for a word, so Jackson helped her out.

"Apprehension?" he asked.

"Yeah," Lisa said, sighing.

"Don't worry about it," Felicia said calmly. "Bennie's been doing this job for years. You know how many of these men die on their jobs?" Not as many as you might think."

"They're trained professionals," Lisa retorted. "I'm not!"

"They all start off as scared little children, Leese," Jackson put in, leaning across the table slightly. "All of them. And you've got a decided advantage over them because you're no scared little child. You're a strong, determined woman, Leese, and you've proven on more than one occasion that you can handle yourself under pressure."

Lisa sighed and ran a hand through her hair, obviously feeling the need for a drink but resisting the urge this time. Felicia stood up and patted Lisa on the back comfortingly.

"I'm going to turn in," she said. "Try not to worry about it too much tonight. Get some sleep. You'll be fine."

Lisa turned and smiled at the other woman sadly.

"Thanks," she said. "Night."

"Night," Felicia said. She nodded slightly in Jackson's direction, and he nodded back, turning to Lisa as she walked away.

"She's right," he said. "You should get some sleep."

"I'm not going to be able to," Lisa said grumpily. Jackson smiled despite himself. "I need a drink."

Jackson stood up and shook his head, smiling down at her.

"I'll get you a seabreeze," he said.

"Thanks," she muttered, running a hand through her hair, which felt greasy and disgusting. "And when we get back to the room, I'm taking a shower."

"Sounds like a plan," Jackson said, shaking his head and walking over to the bar, ordering her drink and his quickly and carrying them back to Lisa. She took it gratefully and the two of them drank deeply.

* * *

Two seabreezes later, Lisa was feeling a little better. She was nowhere near drunk yet, but her mind was definitely beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol. Her stomach didn't feel like it was being eaten alive by butterflies anymore, and she felt herself relaxing, her facial muscles smoothing into an easy smile. Jackson was relaxing as well; Lisa could tell the alcohol was getting to him too, though he was much better at controlling himself.

"You know, everyone around here knows your name," Lisa said thoughtfully. "Earlier, I was at the store over there with Felicia…and it's a _gift shop_. Can you believe that? A gift shop!"

"Really?" Jackson asked with interest. He glanced over in that direction. "Wow, Jimmy's really commercialized since I've last been here."

"They had trading cards," Lisa said, as if that was the strangest thing she'd ever heard. "_Assassin_ trading cards. And a chess set."

"A chess set?" Jackson asked doubtfully.

"Yeah," Lisa said, rolling her eyes. "They had the top assassins carved out of wood."

"Was I on there?" Jackson asked, smirking slightly as if he already knew the answer.

"You were the king," Lisa said, rolling her eyes again. Jackson smirked and leaned back in his chair, obviously quite proud of himself.

"Really," he said thoughtfully. "And who was the queen?"

Lisa smirked.

"Vincent," she said pointedly. Jackson chuckled and took another sip of his drink. Lisa took a sip as well and was about to say something when Vincent himself walked up with a pretty blonde girl hanging off his arm. Both of them were quite obviously drunk.

"Hey, man," Vincent said. "Come on, this party is amazing. Come out and dance."

Jackson looked like he was about to refuse but then he glanced at Lisa and sighed resignedly.

"Let's dance," he said to her simply. Lisa shook her head quickly.

"Oh, no, I don't dance," she said shortly.

"Come on," Vincent said, smiling at her. "Just for a few minutes. Get your mind off tomorrow and just have fun. This is what we always do before a big job. We go to these parties just in case we don't make it back."

Lisa looked horrified. Jackson put a hand on Vincent's chest and pushed him away with a stern glare. Vincent got the hint and took off with the bimbo still holding onto him. Jackson turned back to Lisa and stood up, reaching out his hand.

"Come on," he said. "You're drunk anyway."

"Not that drunk," Lisa protested. Jackson looked at her pleadingly, and she sighed heavily. "All right," she said, standing up unsteadily. "Just in case we don't make it back tomorrow."

She smirked at him in what she hoped was a brave manner, but apparently it didn't work because Jackson smiled sadly at her.

"We'll make it back tomorrow," he said. "Don't worry. This is just for fun."

"Nothing more fun than dancing with the man who kidnapped me, threatened my father, and tried to rape me," Lisa said jokingly.

"Hey," Jackson said warningly. "I thought we were past that."

"It's not really the kind of thing you can just get past so quickly," Lisa said, not even realizing that they were out on the dance floor. Some song she had never heard was playing.

"Yes it is," Jackson said indignantly. "I'm past it!"

"Yes, well, it's a bit easier on your end," Lisa said. They were moving deeper and deeper into the crowd, and when she stopped to look up at him, they were too close for her comfort. Her automatic reaction was to back up, but when she tried she backed right into someone who was standing directly behind her.

Lisa had never really been a claustrophobic person before the Red Eye flight. But having that feeling of being trapped on an airplane with no way to get off and save herself from the madman sitting beside her had made her a little more aware of the size of the space she was in. And the space she was standing in was very small. There were men all around her, dancing and sweating and bumping into her accidentally. She was beginning to feel very sick and very scared. Jackson was looking at her with real concern in his eyes.

He had just opened his mouth to ask if she was all right when the pulsing dance music stopped, and the opening chords to a slower song began to play.

_Great,_ Lisa thought to herself._ Awkward._

Jackson was probably thinking something along those lines, but his face was a blank slate. As the people all around them began to couple off or slink off the dance floor swiftly, they stood facing each other, each of them waiting for the other to make the first move.

"May as well," Jackson grumbled, glaring at Jimmy, who was standing near the D.J. looking rather suspicious as he chuckled mirthfully to himself. Lisa nodded slightly, giving him her unspoken permission. He put his hands on her waist, and after the initial moment of flinching tension on Lisa's part, she put her arms awkwardly around his neck. They stared at each other for a moment as if unsure of what to do. Vincent danced by them with his blonde girl, smiling and suddenly looking very sober.

"I think they planned this," Lisa said bitterly.

"I think so too," Jackson said, sighing.

Someone standing behind Lisa accidentally felt her up, and she instinctively moved a little closer to Jackson, as he turned her around to face the other way protectively, glaring at the offending individual. The singer began to sing, and Lisa recognized it as a cover of an Elvis song that her father and mother played at their wedding.

"_Wise men say, only fools rush in_," the singer sang slowly. "_But I can't help falling in love with you_."

The moment suddenly became even more awkward.

"You know I was never going to rape you," Jackson said to break the silence, earning an odd glance from the couple next to them.

_"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you."_

"You've said that before," Lisa said slowly, looking up at him and starting to feel her heart beating faster in her chest. "But I'm still not sure I believe you."

_"Like a river flows surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be."_

"Because saving your life on more than a few occasions isn't enough to make up for that," Jackson said sarcastically. Lisa shrugged and smiled.

"Maybe," she said. "But you had bad intentions that day."

Jackson grimaced, actually looking ashamed.

_"Take my hand, take my whole life too."_

"We've gone over this," he said, indicating that he didn't want to talk about it anymore.

_"For I can't help falling in love with you."_

"I know," Lisa said softly. "It just makes it a little harder to trust you."

Jackson smiled sadly.

_"Like a river flows, surely to the sea."_

"What, you don't trust me?" he asked. Lisa was beginning to feel a little dizzy as they danced slowly. She didn't even realize that she was resting her head against his chest.

_"Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be."_

"Maybe," she murmured sleepily, looking up at him. She didn't realize that their faces were so close together. When she looked up at him, she was surprised to see that his face was right in hers, and they were close to hitting one another. Her dizzy brain registered that they were coming close to doing something that they definitely didn't want to do, and she looked away quickly. Jackson similarly looked away, and as the song ended, they wordlessly walked off the dance floor and back to their table.

"We should go back to the room," Jackson said slowly.

"Yeah," Lisa said, not looking at him as they swiftly walked down the hall, both of them wanting to forget that moment out on the dance floor just as much as they wanted to forget the fact that they had enjoyed it.

* * *

Lisa stepped into the shower after securely locking the door behind her, letting the hot water wash over her and letting her tense muscles relax. Before she knew it, there were tears running down her face as she realized the full extent of what had happened out there on the dance floor. She and Jackson had nearly kissed. Not only that, but she had actually wanted to kiss him. She could picture it clearly in her head and wasn't disgusted in the least about it.

She sighed and started to shampoo her hair. Only a few days ago she had been convinced he was barely even human and suddenly she wanted to kiss him. _What is the world coming to_?

She thought it was maybe because she was drunk. That would certainly have a lot to do with it. Or maybe she was just feeling some sort of bond with Jackson, considering he had saved her life and she had saved his. They were beginning to act even a little friendly. While it was definitely a little frightening, it was almost refreshing in a way, to know that she no longer needed to fear him like she used to. Of course, there was a whole new group that she had to be afraid of, but she didn't have to worry about that just yet. She wasn't stuck with the whole group for the entire night and the whole day the next day and quite possibly beyond.

She decided that that was it. In her confusion, she thought that she actually wanted to kiss Jackson when all she really wanted to do was be protected. Her fearful nature had taken over the strong determined one that she tried so hard to keep prominent, and she reacted in a way that was very unlike her.

As she conditioned her hair, she wondered how she had suddenly gotten so psychological. She really didn't even know what the hell she had been thinking when she almost kissed him out there. She was pretty sure she hadn't even been thinking at all. But she knew that she would analyze everything to death, probably contradicting herself hundreds of thousands of times like she was currently doing, until she was so paranoid about her own feelings that she would completely forget about the whole thing with Andropov and stress about Jackson instead.

_Perfect.

* * *

_

Meanwhile, Jackson was sitting in his recliner, listening to the waster running in the other room, taking a sip of the drink he had taken back to the room with him. He ran a hand over his face, sighing and rotating his neck, cracking it. He suddenly felt a hundred years old, and didn't want to even lift his hand to drink, but he did anyway and downed the rest of it.

He didn't know what the hell had happened out there. He had reacted in a totally unacceptable way to a tricky situation. Oh, he had turned away from the accidental kiss, he was proud of himself for that. But the fact that he had to force himself to turn away was what drove him mad. It was wrong in every way he could think of. He wasn't that man; the kind of man who gave in to temptation. He wasn't the kind of man to look at a woman and feel the things he was feeling. The Organization had gotten him out of that.

But apparently they hadn't gotten him out of it so much that he could look at Lisa without feeling that fierce protectiveness; that desire to protect her against any harm that would come to her. That was why he was there, wasn't it? Because he had wanted to protect her.

_No, that's not why._ Jackson thought irritably. _It was my fault she was in the situation, and I wanted to get her out of it._

The little voice in the back of his mind disagreed, but Jackson shut it up before it even opened its mouth. He knew what it was going to say: that he had led plenty of unsuspecting victims to their deaths without an ounce of remorse. Obviously Lisa was a little different. But how?

Jackson sighed and reached out his hand, picking up the picture of his mother lazily and looking at it closely, feeling the familiar lump rising in his throat.

* * *

_"Jackie, don't knead it too hard!" laughed Angelia Rippner as she slid another tray of cookies into the oven. "I wouldn't want my baby boy getting a sprained wrist from making cookies! Then how would I keep up with all the demand? These cookies don't bake themselves!"_

_Ten-year-old Jackson smiled and kneaded harder._

_"Look!" he said happily. "I'm not hurting myself! Don't worry!"_

_"Listen to your mother," barked David Rippner from the living room, not even looking up from the television. Jackson and Angelia both flinched noticeably, and Angelia gave him a wavering smile, before nodding and urging Jackson to go on silently. He looked down at the cookie dough quietly, smiling sadly and kneading it slowly this time. Angelia looked at her son sadly, then glanced at David's black curls, which were just visible over the tall backed recliner. She sighed and closed her eyes, and Jackson watched the sad tears peek out from the corners of her eyelids. He vowed then and there that he would never make a woman cry as long as he lived.

* * *

_

Jackson snorted and put the picture back down on the desk, face down as always. That resolve to not make women cry ended long ago. He closed his eyes to will the memory away, but instead was met with the memory of his father with his hands around his mother's neck, shoving her into the wall and shaking her frail head back and forth until he was sure it would break. Quickly his father and mother morphed into he and Lisa, back in that airplane bathroom as he shook her and choked her and yelled at her as she cried. He put his head in his hands, but still he held in the tears that wanted to flow. Jackson Rippner did not cry.

The realization that he was a clone of his father, now, hit him hard, and he felt like someone had just reached out and punched him in the stomach. He almost gagged, but managed to refrain from doing that. Instead, he got to his feet and pulled out that box from under the desk, the one that contained his life. Inside, at the bottom, was a picture of his entire family. He, his mother, and his father. He stared at the picture of his father for a long moment, trying to find something in his father's features that reminded him of himself. But there was nothing, not even a glimmer of the same mischievous smile. He sighed with relief and put the picture back under the desk safely, reassuring himself that at least he didn't look like the man he hated. He could live with that.

Closing his eyes and beginning the long battle against mental images that endlessly compared him to his father, Jackson settled back into the recliner and prepared to sleep.

* * *

Lisa walked out of the bathroom feeling considerably better and even a little less lightheaded. She was even finally wearing pajamas. Jackson was seemingly asleep in the recliner, though she knew he wasn't really sleeping. She was thankful, however, that he didn't make his state of consciousness known. She didn't want to talk to him. She just wanted to get into bed and sleep off the drinks she had and try to forget about that moment.

Climbing into bed, she didn't notice the way Jackson watched her, or the way he sighed heavily before closing his eyes again. She just pulled the blankets over her and laid her head to the pillow, listening to the dim music pounding in the center of the complex. The last thing she heard before falling asleep was the door quietly opening and closing as Jackson walked out of the room.


	14. Everybody Run Now

Ugh, sorry about the long delay again. I haven't had much time lately. Midterms are tomorrow…which is just absolutely disgusting, so we've been reviewing a lot at school. Me and my friend/crush were also in a huge fight, so I didn't really have the will to do much but mope around and watch movies, hahaha. But now we're back on track and I figure I should update while I can since I'll be studying all week!

So there's my story! I hope you liked it. If not you can fill out a comment card and shove it up your ass. Hahaha, no just kidding. I've watched Red Eye 3 times in the past three days…so it's starting to control my life.

I'm making a freewebs site for this story so I can put pictures of the actors who I want to play the people and all that fun stuff. **QUESTION!**: I have actors picked out for many of the characters, but there are a few I just can't seem to think of. The three that are really bugging me are Jimmy (who was originally based on my middle school janitor, hahaha) Andropov, and Anthony. If you guys have suggestions, that would be great! Thanks!

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed last time! I got like 12 reviews! That's so awesome! You guys…are so the best people ever:D

**DollyMomma:** I'm so glad you and your daughter both like the story! Oooo your daughter wants to become a writer! We have that in common, hahaha. I really would like this to be the sequel to the movie, hahaha. I would have so much fun with that. I have actors picked out and everything! Hahaha. Thanks so much for the review!

* * *

**Chapter 14:** Everybody Run Now

_The enemy arrives  
Escape into the night  
__**Everybody run now  
Everybody run now**  
Break into another time  
This enemy alive  
Divinity defines  
__**Everybody run now  
Everybody run now  
Everybody run now**  
Everybody run_

_30 Seconds to Mars  
__Oblivion

* * *

_

When Lisa awoke the next morning, it didn't take her long to determine that Jackson was not in the room with her. However, she saw that there was a note for her on the desk, along with some aspirin and a glass of water and a key to the room. She smiled and got out of bed, slipping on a pair of slippers that she had left beside her bed the night before and walking over to the desk and swallowed the aspirin before picking up the note.

"_Lisa,_" it read in neat, almost feminine, writing. Lisa couldn't help but smile. "_Meet me down at the practice arena when you wake up. I brought coffee. Lock the door on the way out. Jackson."_

Lisa shook her head. She could almost hear Jackson saying that aloud in a curt, matter-of-fact tone. As if this wasn't the most horrible and life-changing day of her life. She was either going to kill someone, or she was going to be killed by someone. Either way she wasn't looking forward to it too much, though there was definitely one option that she preferred above the other.

Walking over to the wardrobe, Lisa picked out jeans and a tank top, brushing her hair carefully and applying her makeup. When she was done, she slipped on sneakers that were at the bottom of the wardrobe, and walked out of the room, locking it behind her.

Once she was out in the hallway, she walked slowly past all the other rooms, rubbing her sore temples and pushing memories of the night before to the back of her mind. That was the last thing she needed to be thinking about. She needed to be focused on the task ahead of her.

When she walked through the center, she could feel eyes on her, and she glanced around to notice that everyone was either staring at her or pretending that they hadn't just been staring at her. She wondered dimly if there was something on her face, and didn't even notice that she was walking faster than usual. Her heart was starting to race as she glanced around, suddenly very self-conscious.

Once she made it to the stairs that led to the 'practice arena' as Jackson called it, she relaxed and took a few deep breaths, leaning against the wall for a moment and closing her eyes. Once she was composed enough, she walked down the winding metal stairs and found herself face to face with Jackson. He smiled at her pleasantly.

"I was just going to find you," he said. He held out a mug of coffee. "Coffee?"

"Thanks," Lisa said, taking the coffee gently out of his hands. They walked towards where Jimmy was saying something sternly to Philippe. Gregory stood by, listening with his hands on his hips. Vincent was looking over some last minute papers, and Frank was on the phone with someone.

"She says it's good," he announced to everyone in the room. "She'll do it."

"Good," Jackson said, and all heads in the room turned towards him and Lisa. "But there's a little problem."

"What would that be?" Jimmy asked, crossing his hands over his chest and looking at Jackson with a frown that said he was probably not going to like what Jackson had to say next.

"I think someone leaked out the information," Jackson replied, walking over to Jimmy and handing him a piece of paper. Jimmy frowned and looked at the paper carefully.

"Who gave this to you?" he asked.

"Felicia Carver," Jackson replied. "She said she overheard someone talking about the 'Andropov Operation'."

"Did she say who it was?" Jimmy asked, handing the paper back to Jackson. Jackson shook his head.

"She didn't get a look at them. It was dark."

"Where was she?" Jimmy asked curiously.

"At the bar," Jackson replied. "They were sitting in a booth, she said." He shook his head. "She said that the way they were talking, it was like it was old news. One of them seemed surprised that the other didn't know about it."

"Yeah, it says that on the paper," Jimmy replied with annoyance. "We don't have time to deal with this. Who cares if they know? They're not going to be telling Andropov about it. Everyone here wants him dead as much as we do."

"Some of them perhaps more," Philippe said pointedly. Jimmy looked at him sympathetically and nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "Some of them want this pretty badly, pal." Lisa gazed at Philippe sadly. There was obviously some deep hatred for Andropov there that she didn't know of and probably never would know of. It was just another reminder that though the men and women in Jimmy's complex were killers, they were also human beings just like she was.

"You don't think there's a risk?" Jackson asked, looking doubtful. Jimmy shook his head.

"No," he said. "There's nothing to worry about. All of these men and women in here, I trust with my life. They wouldn't be here if I didn't personally check them out, each and every one of them. No one's dumb enough to try to get in my way."

Jackson nodded slowly and turned to Lisa.

"It's all right," he said reassuringly. "Nothing's changed."

Lisa nodded in agreement. She didn't see what the big deal was anyway. Yeah, the people in Jimmy's complex knew, but she hadn't known it was supposed to be a secret anyway. And it wasn't like anyone was going to tell the guy. It was like Jimmy said; everyone wanted him dead.

"I know," she said quietly. She was just as nervous as she had been before. No more, and certainly no less.

"Good," Jackson said firmly. "Now, we're going to run through it one more time…"

* * *

They ended up running through it seventeen times, to be exact. It had been so engraved into Lisa's brain that she was sure she could have done it blindfolded. She even asked Jackson if she could attempt it, but it was at that point that Jackson decided she had done it enough times and should probably be getting ready.

Felicia did her makeup. Lisa wasn't sure why the makeup mattered, but Jackson claimed that they had to make her look like she hadn't slept in a while. Felicia managed that nicely; Lisa looked as tired as she felt when she was done.

"Good," Jackson said when he saw her. "Very good. Now…"

Suddenly, Jimmy stepped forward and backhanded Lisa across the face. She gasped and fell back, practically landing atop Felicia.

"What the hell, Jimmy!" Vincent and Jackson exclaimed in unison.

"You want it to look real, you gotta take some steps you might not want to take," Jimmy said in an apologetic tone. "Sorry I had to hit you, kid, but I knew if I suggested it, Jackie woulda damn near killed me."

Jackson glared at Jimmy subtly. It was clear that that was _exactly _what he would have done.

"I don't think that was necessary," Vincent said, watching Jackson carefully out of the corner of his eye.

"It's okay," Lisa said, blinking back the stinging tears that had sprung to her eyes automatically when Jimmy had hit her. "You could have asked."

Jimmy shrugged and turned back to talk to Vincent. He obviously felt badly about doing it, but Lisa knew he was right. They had to make it look real. She wanted this over and done with and if one little slap could help her with that, then she was going to let him slap her however much he wanted to.

"You okay?" Jackson asked her, examining her face and wincing slightly. She nodded.

"I'm fine," she said, smiling curtly and turning away. Felicia smiled sadly at her.

"You're going to do great," she said reassuringly, just because there didn't seem to be anything else to say. Lisa nodded, though she was beginning to get that scared, panicky feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had felt the day before. In the back of her mind, she was going over how many ways she could screw up.

If Jackson noticed that she was driving herself crazy with her nerves, he didn't say anything. He just stood silently by her side while Jimmy said a few words to Vincent. When Jimmy was done talking to Vincent, he gave the other man a hug, and then walked over to Jackson.

"Jackie," he said slowly. "You know this is gonna be the biggest jobs of your life. Take care of yourself. And do me a favor and take care of the girl, okay? You got her into this, you gotta get her out, right?"

"Right," Jackson said lowly. Jimmy nodded, and the two men hugged. Lisa wasn't sure if it was just her paranoia, but Jimmy seemed to hold on to Jackson a bit longer than he should have. Her mind instantly began to fry. Did that mean that Jimmy didn't think Jackson was going to make it back? He _had_ said that it was going to be one of Jackson's biggest jobs. Did that mean hardest?

Jimmy stopped hugging Jackson and walked over to Lisa, his eyes hard and almost determined.

"I'm really sorry about all this," he said slowly. "About Jackie getting you involved in everything. But with him watching your back, you're going to be fine."

"Thanks," Lisa said, not sure of what to say really. Jimmy nodded and hugged her, surprising her greatly. She hugged him back uncomfortably.

"I know he doesn't seem like a great guy," Jimmy said quietly into her ear, so only she could hear, "But there's more to him than meets the eye. Just remember that, Lisa."

Lisa nodded and pulled away from the hug, glancing at Jackson, who was talking to Vincent. Once Jimmy had moved over to Philippe and Gregory, Felicia walked forward shyly.

"You know," she said thoughtfully. "I kind of hoped you'd be here for a while."

Lisa smiled sadly at her new friend.

"And why's that?" she asked.

"It gets pretty lonely down here," Felicia remarked. "With Bennie gone all the time…it was nice having someone to talk to, these past few days. But I suppose you won't be coming back. You'll be going home."

"I'll be back," Lisa promised. "I'll make sure of it."

Felicia smiled and wrapped her arms around Lisa's neck. Lisa similarly hugged the other woman, and she felt a lump rising in her throat as she thought of poor Felicia, down at the bar alone again until her husband returned. She hugged Felicia tighter, and then made herself let go, wiping tears from her eyes, and then smiling when she saw that Felicia was doing the same.

"You women," Vincent said, shaking his head at the two of them. "So emotional."

"Shut the fuck up," Felicia said, shoving him. He took a few steps back, chuckling.

"We should get going," Jackson said. Vincent sobered up and nodded. Lisa took the jacket that Felicia offered and slipped it on. Jackson held out a piece of rope and Lisa held out her hands diligently. Quickly and with great skill, Jackson tied her hands together. Lisa tried to pull them free, but was unable. Jackson nodded with satisfaction.

"Good," Vincent said. "All right, let's go out the back so no one sees us."

Jackson nodded; that was obvious. Saying another quick goodbye to Jimmy and Felicia, the four men and Lisa made their way around the practice arena and to the door in the back. Jackson led Lisa along by the arm, and Vincent walked on her other side, his hands shoved into his pockets as he stared off into space, apparently mentally preparing himself for what was to come. Lisa herself had gone completely numb to all feeling, and didn't even notice when she stubbed her toe on the doorframe.

"You okay?" Jackson asked. Lisa stared at him blankly and he sighed. "It's going to be all right," he said, for what felt like and probably was the thousandth time.

"Yeah," Lisa said, not sounding very convinced. Jackson sighed and kept walking.

* * *

They reached the surface a while later, and emerged in a giant garage of some sorts. Lisa was, not for the first time, in awe at how Jimmy's father had built the complex, if he was even the one to build it. It was one of the most amazing things she had ever seen.

The garage was pretty high up on the list too. Lisa had been a big car person when she was in high school, and still had a bunch of copious facts rattling around up in her brain, so she knew when they stepped into the garage that an impressive collection was in front of her. There were all sorts of cars there, from sports cars to SUVs, every one of them shiny and looking brand new.

Jackson noticed that Lisa's mouth was partly open in awe.

"Where did you think I got my taste from?" he asked with a grin.

"This is…amazing," Lisa said lamely. Jackson nodded and looked around the room with a fond sort of pride.

"It is," he said. "This is where everyone who lives here keeps their cars."

"What about yours?" Lisa asked. "That's in some other garage, right?"

"Yeah," Jackson said, shrugging. "Guest parking." He grinned at Lisa and took her arm again, leading her over to where Vincent and the others were waiting, in front of a flashy red sports car.

"Unless Andropov's tastes have changed, he should think this is a pretty nice car," Vincent said. "He has one himself. Good first impression before we even say a word."

He slipped on a pair of sunglasses and grinned at Jackson playfully, slipping into the driver's seat. Gregory got into the passenger seat, and Lisa got into the back between Philippe and Jackson. Vincent turned around in his seat to look at them.

"Now, Jackson, I want you to keep a hand on her at all times, for appearances. Don't let her go."

Jackson nodded and put a hand on Lisa's arm. Vincent turned to Gregory.

"When we go in there," he said. "Remember what we talked about. "Eyes open, everywhere. Don't look at Scarlett for too long, don't look at Andropov for too long. We don't want to get him suspicious. Act like bodyguard would; take in everything in the room."

"Got it," Gregory said. Philippe just nodded.

"Okay," Vincent said, sighing heavily. He turned to Lisa. "Jackson says you're pretty impressive as an actress."

"She is," Jackson said, before Lisa could say anything to refute that.

"Good," Vincent said. "I want you to act scared of Jackson, scared of me, scared of Gregory and Philippe, and especially scared of Andropov, but I want you to keep a calm head on your shoulders under all that. You got it?"

"I got it," Lisa repeated, nodding. Vincent turned towards the front and started talking to Gregory again. Jackson turned Lisa towards him gently and started messing up her hair. "What are you doing?" Lisa asked with annoyance.

"I'm making it look like we've been struggling," Jackson said simply, ruffling the top of her hair in an almost professional way.

"You should have been a hair dresser," Lisa said, rolling her eyes. Jackson smirked humorlessly at her, smiling more for her than because it was actually funny. Lisa could sense that, and appreciated the effort.

"We want everything to look perfect," Jackson said. "Andropov's a very suspicious man."

"You two should just have sex and leave her hair all messed up," Vincent said, sticking a cigarette between his teeth and pushing his sunglasses down over his eyes, grinning devilishly. Lisa and Jackson stared at him with highly unamused expressions. "What?" he asked innocently. "Just a suggestion."

Jackson glared at Vincent once more before turning back towards Lisa and messing up her hair some more.

"There," he said with a satisfied nod. "I think that works."

"Looks good," Philippe said with a nod.

"Now…I need you to cry," Jackson said. Lisa stared at him.

"What?" she asked.

"Cry," Jackson said. "You know, tears? The tear tracks will make a good impression."

Lisa sighed. She knew he was right. A messed up girl with tear-stained cheeks was much more effective than one without the tearstains. It really got the impression of fear across. Still, that didn't mean she wanted to cry, especially not in front of Jackson. But she knew the importance of details, and she knew that crying would help her in her job; it would make it easier. She sighed and closed her eyes, willing the tears to the surface. Crying on will had been a trick that she learned in high school. It had been quite the effective way for her to get what she wanted in difficult situations. She could have never imagined back then that she would one day be sitting in a car full of assassins, quite possibly going to her death, with her whole performance riding on her ability to cry on will.

She managed to get the tears flowing, and Philippe shook his head with wonder.

"Women," he said in an awed voice.

The tears kept flowing. Lisa could almost feel her makeup running, and she closed her eyes to squeeze out the tears faster. When her eyes were closed, she felt Jackson take her face in his hands, and she was sure for a heart-stopping moment that he was going to kiss her. But then he just rubbed his fist along her cheeks, smudging her makeup even more and making it look like she had been wiping away her tears.

The intimate contact made for a very awkward silence, and for a long while they just sat there, not saying anything. Then, Jackson nodded.

"Okay," he said. "Save some for later, Leese."

Lisa nodded and wiped away the tears that were brimming over her eyelids. A few moments later, there were no more tears coming to her eyes, and she settled back against the seat.

"Anything else?" she asked after another long, awkward pause. Jackson shook his head.

"That should be it," he said. Now just prepare yourself, mentally. Run through the setup in your mind. Make sure you've got everything down."

Lisa nodded and let her head rest back against the back of the seat, closing her eyes and envisioning the warehouse in her mind. She would be standing next to Jackson and Vincent, while Andropov and his cronies would stand in front of them. Scarlett would walk in from behind, and she would brush up against Lisa and drop the gun into her open jacked pocket. Then, when Vincent gave the signal, she would shoot Andropov, in the head, and then she would shoot the man on his left. From there, it was basically every man for himself, as each side would battle it out.

She sighed shakily, trying to expel all the nerves out of her body. It didn't seem to be working, because the butterflies in her stomach were even more active than they have before.

"Don't worry," Jackson said without even looking at her. "You're driving yourself crazy with all of this…worrying. Just know your stuff, and you'll be okay. You know your stuff, right?"

"Yes," Lisa said certainly. "But there are so many things that could go wrong…so many areas for me to mess it up…how can I not be nervous? How are you not nervous?"

"Just convince yourself that you're going to do fine," Jackson said. "Confidence is key."

"Right," Lisa said absently. Jackson rolled his eyes and gave up, turning to look on the window with a firm hand on her leg. She stared down at his hand, noticing the way his fingers were slightly curled, almost protectively. His fingers were long and slim; they seemed delicate, almost, and definitely not hands that would be used to kill someone. The thought that that very hand had probably been the cause for one death was enough to make her want his hand off of her, even though it was admittedly some source of comfort. She didn't want to say anything, however, so she ignored it and let his hand remain there for the time being.

She looked straight out the front window and let her mind wander aimlessly across the events of the past few days. It was like some kind of slideshow of her life; details that she hadn't even known she remembered suddenly popped up in her mind. Like the color of the scarf Jackson had been wearing when he was chasing her around the terminal, or the color of the shirt that Anthony had been wearing when she shot him. All these things seemed to collide in her mind and create one big colorful mess of memories and pointless details until she was barely able to tell one from the other. She and Jackson's showdown in her house smoothly transitioned into the fire at the agency; and her arrival at the airport three months ago changed in the blink of an eye to her arrival at Jimmy's little complex. Jackson was right; she was completely driving herself insane with her overanalyzing and nervousness. She sighed. She hated when Jackson was right.

Forcing herself to stop thinking about the trial ahead, she was suddenly reminded of when she went to get her driver's license. She was so nervous that day as she drove to the registry, and as she waited for her turn to take the test. But then, as she stepped into the car and knew that there was no backing out and she had to pass, she stopped being nervous and forced herself to be calm. And she passed the test with flying colors.

Though passing a driving test and killing a Russian underground world leader were definitely slightly different, she decided that the principle was the same. She would allow the fear to take control as long as they were in the car, but as soon as she stepped out into the situation, she would calm herself and force herself to not be afraid of what she was going to do.

Jackson turned to glance at her, and she grinned at him slightly

"Don't worry," he said. Lisa nodded.

"I won't," she replied.

* * *

Joe Reisert paced back in forth in front of Sergeant Brian Greene's office, running a hand over the top of his head worriedly. Inside, he could hear voices speaking lowly, but they were too quiet to be understood. The man at the front desk was watching him with a kind of annoyed sympathy; an emotion that truly made no sense whatsoever. After glaring at the offending individual several times, Joe gave up and decided to ignore him as he continued his pacing.

After about fifteen minutes of continuous pacing the door finally opened, and Sergeant Greene escorted an old woman out, smiling at her with a forced patience that seemed to come naturally to the busy man.

"Okay, Mr. Reisert, I can see you now," he said, nodding to the woman and letting Joe into his office, closing the door behind them.

"My daughter's been kidnapped and you take an hour talking to an old woman who _thinks_ someone broke into her house?" Joe asked, sounding disgusted and extremely annoyed.

"Her alarm went off and she was scared," Brian said rationally. "She wouldn't leave until she had spoken to me."

"And my daughter's been taken by a madman!" Joe exclaimed furiously.

"Look," Brian said slowly and patiently. "I know the man that your daughter is with, and I know that he would never hurt a woman, not if he could help it. Your daughter will not be harmed by Jackson Rippner."

"I'm not so sure about that," Joe said, snorting derisively in a very unamused manner.

"Well I am," Brian said, suddenly looking very angry and annoyed. "Because I've received some information that he's going to be down at Freeman's Pier sometime today. He's taking your daughter there."

"What?" Joe roared, not noticing the way Brian looked down at the ground as if avoiding Joe's gaze, as if he had something to hide. "You knew where my daughter was and you _still_ took so long to talk to that crazy old woman?"

Brian appeared to have had enough. He slammed his hand on the desk and stood up swiftly.

"I realize that you're going through a difficult time right now, Mr. Reisert," he said coldly. "And I realize that right now it may seem like we're not doing enough. But the fact of the matter is that we are doing _everything_ we can to make sure your daughter is recovered safe and sound. But you are not our only priority, Mr. Reisert. There are other people in this city going through difficult times, during which they need us by their sides. And we have to be there, Mr. Reisert. You aren't the only person in this city, so you'd damn well better stop acting like it and show a little gratitude for the long hours spent fighting for your daughters life."

As Brian spoke, Joe seemed to grow angrier and angrier, but he didn't say anything. He just stared at Brian, waiting for him to be done.

"I don't know if you know what it's like," he said slowly when Brian was finished, practically quivering with rage. "To have the only person that you have to care for out there somewhere, fighting for her life without protection…but I've had to go through that three times, now. I've had to live with the fact that I wasn't there to protect her, and it was because of me that she ended up hurt or scared or she lost her faith in my ability as a father and as someone to turn to…I had to live knowing that at any moment it could happen again. And now it has happened again, and I want to be there for her. I want to save her and protect her and do all the things a great father can, but I need your help. Now like I said, I don't know if you know what it's like…but it's pretty damn near the worst feeling in the world to be helpless to help your daughter. And when stuff like that happens, you tend to put it on higher priority over false alarms and frightened old women."

"I do know what it's like," Brian said in a low voice, looking down at the ground. "I know what it's like to be unable to help your child. Trust me, I know, and I know it's the most horrible feeling in the world…but I'm in the position where I have to treat everyone equally. But right now, there _is_ something we can do to help Lisa. We can go down to the pier and we can see if there's any truth to this tip."

"Am I allowed to come with you?" Joe asked. Brian sighed and nodded.

"Yes," he said. "You can come with us. I've got a squad ready to move out. Are you ready, Mr. Reisert?"

"Yes," Joe said shortly. "I'm ready."

"Good," Brian said, sighing and running a hand over the top of his head. "Let's go." Joe turned and walked out of the room first. Brian paused for a moment. He sighed and ran a hand over his head again and shook his head.

"You owe me one, Jimmy," he muttered under his breath, and then he closed the door behind him.

* * *

The red sports car pulled up to the gates in front of Berta's Warehouse. They were met by a surly guard, who just peered into the car lazily, then opened the gates for them and let them pass, looking very uninterested in his job.

"He's not important," Jackson said to Lisa. "He's probably someone who they're pissed off at right now. He gets the job that no one else wants."

"Lucky him," Lisa said, glancing back at him. Jackson pulled her around to face the front by her chin, painfully rough.

"Just pretend I'm in charge here for a second, okay?" he said with light annoyance.

"It's a hard thing to pretend," Lisa sneered. He grinned and released her chin, which she rubbed sourly, glaring at him like a small child. He couldn't help a smile, though he forced it to vanish before it had barely made an appearance.

Still, though the reason was completely unbeknownst to Lisa, that smile seemed to make all the difference. She no longer felt the spazzing butterflies beating holes in her stomach, nor felt the frantic beating of her heart in her chest. She felt almost calm…reassured in a way. That one smile had had an effect on her that it shouldn't have, and in some ways, it scared her.

They pulled up next to the warehouse, where three men were waiting. One of them was tall and wearing a long brown coat, with long shaggy brown hair and piercing black eyes. The other two men by his side were less noticeable and wore identical black uniforms. As Jackson opened her door and escorted her out, Lisa noticed that one of the men looked more familiar than he should have.

"Harrison," she gasped under her breath. He was looking at Jackson and Lisa with fear in his eyes, and his eyes darted from Andropov and back to them, as if he was unsure of what to do.

"Jonathan McCarthy," Andropov said, smiling genially and walking up to Vincent, wrapping his arms around the other man in a crushing bear hug.

"Yuri Andropov," Vincent said, smiling at the other man as if he was looking at someone greatly revered and respected. "You're a great man, Yuri."

"From what your records say about you, so are you," Andropov chuckled deeply. "Though nothing can live up to the success of the Tampa Job, of course, Mr. Rippner."

Jackson smiled tersely and dragged Lisa around to the front of the car. She lowered her head and forced herself to look frightened and weary, and her eyes spilled over with tears, causing new fresh tracks and disturbing her makeup even more.

"You certainly have your fair share of successes yourself, Mr. Andropov," he said in an unreadable tone.

"Yes, as well as a good number of failures," Andropov replied pointedly, glancing at Jackson. "Which is why I'm willing to give you a second chance. Oh…and please, call me Yuri."

He grinned in an almost friendly manner, and Lisa found herself becoming less and less frightened of him. She knew, though, that that was a bad thing. That was what he was intending her to do, to feel. It was what Jackson had done at the airport and what Hillman had done by first being polite to her. But she knew now that she shouldn't fall for it. All of the men had turned out to have bad intentions. It was beginning to become a tiring pattern, and Lisa wondered if she would ever fully trust another man again.

"Well, I'm glad you're willing to give me a second chance," Jackson said in a grateful tone that sounded so real, it almost convinced Lisa. "I have the woman who caused all the problems."

With that, he gave Lisa a rough shove forward, and she stumbled a little before regaining her footing just as Andropov grabbed her chin in one hand, looking down on her, sneering.

"So this is little Lisa Reisert," he said, scoffing. "Let's get you all inside, and we'll discuss the terms then."

Jackson and Vincent nodded, while Gregory and Philippe stood by their sides wordlessly. Andropov shoved Lisa back to Jackson, and started walking into the building, with Harrison and the other man following behind. Harrison glanced back at Lisa once, his eyes large and helpless. He seemed conflicted, and Lisa almost wanted to reassure him that it was okay, that she wasn't going to be in any danger. She found herself wanting to talk to him and see how his girlfriend was and how he was and why he was taking another job. But instead she just allowed Jackson to roughly grab her arm and lead her into the building.

As she and Jackson walked along, she looked up at him, begging him with her eyes to show at least some sign of reassurance. But his stony eyes just glared into hers, and he pulled her along faster. He was fully in his part now, and Lisa was hit with a sudden realization that maybe she was the one being set up in this situation. She realized that Jackson and Vincent and Jimmy and all of the others could easily really be turning her in, and there was nothing she'd be able to do about it.

She gazed back at the water of the ocean that surrounded the warehouse, and her view was cut off by the door slamming behind her. It was then that she realized there was no going back, and whatever hope she had in getting out alive rested on her own shoulders and on the shoulders of Jackson Rippner.

* * *

Joe was becoming impatient. Brian was taking too long to get the task force together, and he kept trying to call someone on his cell phone, looking more and more pissed off as more and more time passed and there was still no answer. Joe had a feeling that that it meant bad things for their little mission.

"Are we ready to go yet?" Joe asked, not caring that he sounded like a small, impatient child.

"Not yet," Brian said absently, looking distracted. He dialed the number on his cell phone again. Joe sighed and walked back over to the window of Brian's office. There was a young couple waiting there, looking anxious. A policeman that Joe recognized as Tomelson was attempting to comfort them. Joe sighed and turned around to face Brian again as the other man swore under his breath and slammed the phone down on the desk.

"Who're you trying to call?" Joe asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.

"No one," Brian replied shortly. "Come on, let's go."

Brian picked up his phone and pocketed it, opening the door and letting Joe out before following and closing the door behind him. He considered trying to call Jimmy again, but he decided that he'd just go to the pier and hope that none of Jimmy's men would be conducting any business around it. After all, it was relatively early in the morning, and most of Jimmy's business was conducted at night. Brian convinced himself that there was nothing to worry about, and he followed Joe outside to where the men were waiting. As he got into the car, he prayed to God that He forgive him for his sin of lying to Joe and leading him on a wild goose chase to protect a man who in all rights didn't deserve his protection in the least.

As Joe got into the car with a confident air, sure that he would find his daughter, Brian got into the car with a heavy heart, knowing that after today, there would be yet another wild chase and another and another until Jimmy and Jackson were done with Lisa. He just hoped to God that that was soon.

* * *

Andropov stood in front of Lisa, Vincent, and Jackson with Harrison and the other man by his side. They were at least twenty feet apart, and Andropov stood on a little raised platform that was practically screaming 'shoot me'. Lisa fought hard to keep from smiling; she was glad he was making this so easy for her.

"I want you to work another job for me," Andropov said to Jackson calmly. "Another Keefe job. I want you to succeed this time, and I want you to use the red head, Cynthia, to carry out Anthony Meyers' plan."

"Anthony Meyers' plan was full of shit," Jackson said derisively. "Why would you want me to attempt to recreate that catastrophe?"

"Hey, Jackson," Vincent said to Jackson shortly. "Yuri's giving you a chance at life. Please don't tell me you're going to go all macho bullshit on me."

"I'm not going all 'macho bullshit' on you," Jackson replied, looking annoyed. "I want this plan to succeed, and it's not going to succeed if we do it his way."

"Really," Andropov said, trying to sound annoyed but instead looking mildly relieved. Lisa inferred that he didn't think too much of Anthony's plan either.

"Really," Jackson said in an almost mocking tone. Lisa shot him a glare. Why the hell was he acting like he was the one in control? "I haven't had the time nor the resources to think on one of my own, but I will think of one and I will report back to you as soon as I make sure it's foolproof."

"That's all I ask for," Andropov said calmly. "Foolproof."

Lisa heard a door open behind them, and she turned around to see who it was that had just entered the room. There was a pretty woman with brown hair walking towards them, smiling at Andropov with an almost star-struck look in her eyes.

"Yuri," she said pleasantly. "You didn't tell me we were having company."

"Scarlett, darling," Andropov said with a sickeningly sweet grin. "I couldn't find you this morning. Otherwise I surely would have told you."

"I was taking a shower, dear," Scarlett said sweetly, walking past Lisa and brushing up against her as she slid between she and Vincent. Lisa felt the heavy weight drop into her pocket, and she inwardly grinned, though outwardly flinched and drew back. Andropov's grin grew. Vincent grinned at Andropov in a way that suggested something. Andropov smiled back in a way that confirmed that suggestion. Scarlett just sauntered her way over to Andropov in her short red skirt that rode up further than any skirt should be allowed to ride.

"And who might this young woman be?" Vincent asked. Andropov smiled.

"She is Scarlett DeMato," Andropov replied. "Beautiful, is she not?"

"You're a lucky man, Andropov," was all Vincent would say. Andropov smiled genuinely; apparently that was the right thing to say.

"I know I am, Jonathan," Andropov said proudly. "Now, back to business."

"Yes," Vincent said, taking off his sunglasses and pocketing them, his easygoing smile returning to a businesslike façade once again. "I'm offering you Lisa Reisert in exchange for full pardon of Jackson Rippner."

"I completely accept those terms," Andropov said, looking at Lisa with a sharktoothed smile that made Jackson's hand tighten on her arm even more. "But as I stated before, to gain full pardon, Mr. Rippner must first complete the Keefe job which he failed last time."

"Jackson?" Vincent said, glancing at Jackson questioningly.

"I accept," Jackson said. Vincent nodded.

"Good," he said, looking at Lisa and smiling in an eerie fashion. "Then we have a deal."

Lisa tensed. That was it. The signal. She reached her bound hands down towards her pocket where she could feel the gun waiting to be used. Andropov chuckled mirthfully.

"We have a deal," he agreed. Lisa's hands tightened on the smooth, cold metal, and she found the trigger, getting ready to pull it out.

Suddenly, before Lisa could even move, the sound of gunshots broke out, and Andropov's body jerked around wildly as dozens of bullets hit him all at once, spinning his body around and around and around before he finally collapsed to the ground with his eyes open wide and his mouth hanging open, spilling blood onto the ground. Scarlett screamed and Harrison stared wildly at the dead man with an expression of utter horror. Everyone turned around to face where the bullets had come from. Standing about thirty feet behind Lisa and Jackson was Alexander Hillman, leaning heavily on a cane and breathing raggedly with a victorious smile on his face.

"Hillman!" Jackson exclaimed, surprised. Lisa turned and glanced at Harrison, who looked sick and uncertain. Hillman lowered his weapon; something that Lisa didn't recognize but must have been very powerful indeed to do what it did to Andropov's now-rigid body.

"Shut up, you incompetent asshole," Hillman sneered in a tone much like disgust, striding towards Jackson purposely. Andropov's right hand man pulled out a gun and pointed it straight at the older man.

"Don't _fucking_ move!" he screamed. Hillman actually froze for an instant, but then he just raised his gun again. Jackson pulled Lisa towards him, shielding her with his own body and turning her away.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he shouted.

"Though I was dead, didn't you, you insufferable prick," Hillman sneered, scoffing. "Well, let this be a lesson to you. Yuri Andropov may be mortal, but you're dealing with Alexander Hillman now. You can't kill me."

In her disoriented and confused state, Lisa almost believed him. She was filled with a brief feeling of panic before she realized that of _course_ they could kill him; everyone could be killed. She started to work furiously on the bonds holding her hands together as Jackson's arms tightened protectively around her waist.

"Look, why doesn't everyone just put the guns down," Vincent said calmly. In the next instant, both guns were pointed at him, and he raised his hands in the air as a sign of surrender, backing up slowly.

"All right, okay, no," he said, shrugging. "My mistake. Never mind."

Both guns returned to their former positions. Harrison cleared his throat slowly, indicating that he was about to speak.

"Umm…Alexander," he said quietly. "Let's just get out of here, okay? He's dead."

"He's not what I came for," Hillman said, his eyes fixed firmly on Lisa. Jackson's hold tightened again, and it almost stared to hurt. Lisa had managed to loosen the knots, and her nimble fingers maneuvered around the ropes, starting to untie them.

"Let's just calm down, okay?" Jackson said rationally, sounding like he was talking to a small child or a rabid dog. "We can talk about this, or…"

"Dammit, I said shut the _fuck_ up!" Hillman exclaimed his voice reaching a great volume. Lisa's hands worked quicker. Vincent glanced at her, his eyes urging her on.

"Put the gun down!" Andropov's right hand man yelled. Harrison was looking lost. He almost looked like he wanted to break down and cry.

"Yuri's dead," Hillman screeched, and Lisa realized that he had gone completely insane. "Who the fuck do you think calls the shots now, huh?"

"Jesus Christ," Philippe murmured. Suddenly, Hillman turned to face him and began to shoot. Philippe fell to the ground, riddled with bullets. Lisa and Scarlett both screamed, and Scarlett rushed forward, earning a questioning look from Andropov's right hand man.

"You asshole!" Scarlett screamed tearfully. "Oh my God, Philippe!"

Lisa worked harder, untying the knots and wishing that Jackson hadn't been so thorough in tying them earlier. Tears spilled out of her eyes as she stared at poor Philippe, as he gasped for breath painfully.

Scarlett fell to her knees beside the friendly Irish man, cradling his head in her hands. Lisa sobbed and looked up at Jackson, who was staring at Philippe with a stricken expression. With a sudden horror, Lisa saw that his eyes were glistening. He was crying. That only made her sob harder, and she ripped the last bit of rope off of her arms, reaching down for the gun.

Suddenly, more shots were fired, only this time from the other direction. Then more, and more. The doors to the warehouse burst open, and men started swarming in, shooting all around. They were cops.

"Look out!" Vincent screamed, tackling Jackson and Lisa and knocking the three of them behind a large pile of boxes as bullets sprayed behind them.

"Don't shoot the hostage!" a voice barked out. "Goddammit, get her out of there!"

"Shit," Vincent swore. Lisa looked around wildly. Scarlett was dragging Philippe's body out of the way as men swarmed out of the back of the warehouse; Andropov's men. Lisa spotted Ben as Jackson hauled her to her feet, grabbing her and staying in front of her. Harrison fired on one of Andropov's men, and was shot in the back of the leg by a cop. He fell to the ground, yelling in pain.

"Shit," Jackson swore as well. He pushed Lisa against a box. "Stay there," he ordered her. She nodded wordlessly, and he ran out blindly into the firefight, staying low to the ground. He ran to Harrison's side and helped the other man up, dragging him over behind the box and miraculously not getting shot. The police and Andropov's men were engaged in a full-fledged firefight, and they appeared to have forgotten about Lisa entirely. Jackson sat Harrison down in front of the box. The younger man gasped with pain, flinching and clenching his hands into fists. "Dammit, kid, stop taking orders from that dipshit," Jackson said harshly, tying a strip of Harrison's shirt around his leg. Lisa peered above the box, watching as Hillman was riddled with bullets, and still managed to stand up and shoot at the policemen, killing at least ten of them before he finally fell to the ground and was still. Gregory was now fighting on the side of Andropov's men.

As Lisa watched, Andropov's men fell one by one, and the policemen were pushing forward. She turned to Jackson.

"Jackson, they're coming," she said. "You should…get out of here."

Jackson stopped tending to Harrison and looked at her with realization. Realization that this was probably the last minute he was ever going to see her.

"Come on," Vincent said. "She's right. We gotta get out of here."

"What about you?" Jackson asked. Scarlett pulled out a gun and started shooting at Andropov's men.

"They're here to save me. They're not going to kill me," Lisa said pointedly. Jackson nodded slowly.

"Yeah," he said. He turned to Vincent. "Take the kid and get him the hell out of here. Go through the back. Jimmy should be waiting out there somewhere."

"What?" Vincent asked, surprised.

"You know me better than that, Vincent," Jackson said quickly, eager to get everyone out. "I had him come here just in case something went wrong."

"Smart man," Vincent said, already putting his arm around Harrison's waist and draping the other man's arm across his shoulders. "Where you want me to take him?"

"Take him back to the complex," Jackson said. Vincent shot him a surprised look.

"What?" he asked. "He's not an orphan, Jack."

"He is…just not one of Jimmy's," Jackson replied, waving his hand dismissively. "Jimmy knows him. He'll let him in."

Vincent shrugged and hauled Harrison to his feet. Scarlett followed him, dragging Philippe's body behind, still with tears in her eyes. Lisa gazed at them sadly, her eyes unfocused. A bullet struck the side of the boxes near them. Lisa flinched and closed her eyes, breathing out slowly.

"Hey," Jackson said, putting his hand on her arm comfortingly. "Andropov and Hillman are both dead. You're safe now."

Lisa nodded, though she didn't seem too thrilled about it.

"But…Philippe," she said sadly.

"Leese, look at me," Jackson said, and her eyes slowly opened to look at his determined face. "He gave his life to stop Andropov. It wasn't your fault."

Lisa nodded and looked at him with her eyes shimmering with tears. Then, though her mind was urging her to not do it, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, crying into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes, pulling back almost immediately after she had done it. Jackson gazed at her sadly.

"I'm sorry too," he replied. "For all of this."

He sighed and looked at her deeply, and for an instant, Lisa thought he was going to kiss her. But instead he just looked away, biting his lip and then starting to move across the floor to the door.

"Keep in touch," Lisa said after a pause. Jackson turned around and smiled at her.

"Will do, Leese," he said, and then he was jogging to the door.

Lisa sighed and rested back against the boxes, putting her head in her hands and watching with a sickening feeling as Andropov's men fell to the ground, yelling in pain. Gregory fell, a shocked expression on his face as he looked towards the door to where he saw his teammates and friends leaving without him. She watched as Andropov's lifeless body was trampled and ignored as if it had never existed. She watched as the police rushed forward, shooting and yelling to each other and aiming with deadly accuracy. She watched all that and closed her eyes and willed it to be all over.

Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed her wrist, and she was hauled to her feet. For a moment she thought for sure that it was one of the policemen, but when she opened her eyes she realized that it was Ben, and that he was looking at her in a way that implied bad intentions.

He pulled out a gun and wrapped his arm around her neck from behind, putting the gun to her head and leading her out where the policemen could see her. She was dragged out into the open, and immediately, all shooting stopped. Lisa struggled, but she was held firmly.

"Whoa…get the sergeant," one of the men said, and another yelled something outside. A moment later, an older man walked in, followed by Joe. Lisa immediately felt tears springing to her eyes at the sight of her father, and she began to sob.

"Quiet," Ben hissed, and he tightened his hold on her. He then turned to the police, addressing them with his gun to Lisa's head. "Everyone drop your weapons, or she's dead!"

Everyone looked around at each other, and the older man with Lisa's father nodded slowly. Everyone lowered their weapons to the ground slowly.

"Please," Joe pleaded loudly, walking forward a few steps. "Please don't hurt my daughter."

* * *

Jackson made his way around the side of the building just as Vincent and Harrison were getting into Jimmy's car. Suddenly, he realized that all shooting had stopped. He froze, waiting.

"Please," a voice said in a low, tremulous tone. "Please don't hurt my daughter."

Jackson's eyes widened, and he stared at the warehouse with fear.

"Come on, you dumb fuck, get in the car!" Jimmy yelled.

"Go back!" Jackson yelled, waving wildly. "Get out of here!"

With that, he turned and ran back towards the door. Jimmy swore loudly and watched him disappear inside, pausing for a long moment before starting the car and driving away sadly.

* * *

"Oh, this is your daughter?" Ben asked with a biting mockingness that surprised Lisa despite the fact that she knew what the man was capable of. "How sweet. She also happens to be the girl who fucking killed Anthony Meyers."

"Look, sir," the older policeman said, stepping forward. "Why don't you just let the girl go?"

"Can't do that," Ben said, shaking his head sharply.

"Let her go, Ben," said a cold, dangerous voice from Ben's left, towards the small side entrance. Everyone's heads turned in that direction, and they all saw Jackson Rippner standing there with his gun pointed at Ben's head. Ben chuckled.

"Don't fuck with me, Rippner. You're the worst shot I've seen in my life. You gonna risk hitting her?"

He turned Lisa around to face Jackson, whose gaze suddenly became a lot softer.

"Ben, you don't wanna do this," Jackson said.

"Yeah?" Ben asked. "Oh, I wanna do it. Now put the fucking gun down, or I kill her."

Jackson sighed and dropped the gun to the ground, looking extremely pissed off. Ben nodded and two of his men walked over to him and grabbed his arms.

"What are you planning on doing with her?" Jackson asked, sneering.

"I'm taking her to Derrick," Ben said smugly.

"Derrick?" Jackson asked slowly, obviously confused.

"The new head of the Organization," Ben said, grinning like a shark. "With Hillman out of the way, Derrick's taking full leadership. I think little miss Reisert will be an excellent gift for his first day."

Jackson suddenly began to struggle, his eyes flaming. Joe's hands clenched into fists. Greene's face turned deadly pale.

"You bastard," Jackson said, coincidentally at the same moment that Joe whispered it under his breath.

"What was that?" Ben asked, nodding to his men. One of them kneed Jackson in the stomach. He fell to his knees, groaning. Joe noticed that Lisa flinched and struggled a little bit. He bit his lip and looked back at the young man. He was breathing heavily and staring at Ben with a look that said there was nothing in the world he wanted more than for that man to feel pain.

"Take me with you," Jackson said. Everyone in the room stared at him like he was crazy.

"What is that crazy sonofabitch doing?" Brian muttered. "He's gotta know they're only going to kill him."

"What about Lisa?" Joe asked frantically.

"Take you with me?" Ben laughed. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Just…take me with you," Jackson said. Ben thought for a moment.

"You know, Derrick's always hated you," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe he can have his fun with you, too. But…in a _different_ way."

If that statement frightened Jackson at all, he didn't show it. He just stood to his feet and pulled his arms from the two men holding him, walking over to Ben.

"I don't care," he said in a low, dangerous voice. As he spoke, he grabbed Ben's arm and wrenched it from around Lisa's neck, allowing her to breathe normally once more. She pulled away from Ben and into Jackson's waiting arms, burying her face in his chest and feeling a lot more safe.

"Get in the car," Ben said, referring to the old, beat up car that was sitting in front of the large door at the other end of the warehouse. Jackson nodded and looked over his shoulder at Brian and Joe. Joe's eyes were glimmering with tears. Jackson nodded to Brian gravely. Brian nodded back.

"Give me a moment," Jackson said, pulling away from Lisa and walking over to Brian and Joe quickly. "Greene…I need you to call Jimmy and tell him what happened."

"You got it, kid," Greene said sadly. "You do know what you're doing, right?"

Jackson just nodded and stuck out his hand to shake. Brian took it and shook it, and the two of them smiled knowingly as Jackson's hand curled into a fist around the object he had just been handed. He glanced at Joe and thought about saying something to him, but decided against it and turned around, walking back towards Lisa and putting his hand to her neck, where and angry red mark was already forming.

"You all right?" he asked. She nodded.

"Guess that wasn't goodbye after all, was it?" she asked. Jackson smiled sadly and shook his head.

"Guess not," he said. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Come on."

Ben pointed the gun at them as they walked towards the car. Brian and Joe watched them, each of them with sad expressions as Ben got into the car as well, followed by two other men. They waited until the car had pulled out of the garage and was out of sight before they began to move again.

"Dammit," Joe swore, wiping at his eyes. "They got her again."

"Not for long, Joe," Brian said, smiling knowingly as he stared off into the distance. "Not for long."


	15. Leave the Politics to Mad Men

Ugh, another painfully long week of no updating. I'm sorry about that, but things have been prettyyy busy around here. There IS some good news though!

The freewebs site that I've been making for the story is nearly completed. I have all the characters and their pictures up so far and I'm going to start uploading the story soon. The only things I need help with are:

Actors. Does anyone have any ideas for Andropov, Ben, or Jimmy? I have one name for Jimmy but I haven't been able to find a picture that I can use, so I was wondering if anyone else had any ideas.

Does anyone have a picture of that creepy guy from Hostel who was eating his salad with his fingers? I can't find one and need him for one of the characters!

ALSO, because I am the BIGGEST dork in the world, I created my own little screenname for people that I meet online, since as of late I've met a lot of cool people (especially JENNA!) and would looooove to meet more. The screenname is xStahlfan125x (I know, sooooo original)

Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed! Pleaseee review again and I would love you forever and ever!

Thanks to Mae and Gladys Bagg. And Mae….just read onward :D

* * *

**Chapter 15:** Leave the Politics to Mad Men

He said, "can you hear me, are you sleeping?"  
She said, "will you rape me now?"  
He said, "**leave the politics to mad men**."  
She said, "I believe your lies.  
He said, "there's a paradox beneath me."  
She said, "am I supposed to bleed?"  
He said, "You'd better pray to Jesus."  
She said, "I don't believe in God."

Buddha for Mary  
30 Seconds to Mars

* * *

Lisa woke up and opened her eyes, immediately panicking when she couldn't see anything. However, as her eyes quickly adjusted to the lack of light, she could vaguely make out the features of the room she was in.

It was a small room, filled with random junk that she couldn't quite make out. There was a metal shelving unit across the room from her, and to her left was an even bigger one. Both shelving units contained boxes; the contents of which Lisa didn't even begin to want to know. She moved her arms and her legs experimentally, relieved when she discovered that she wasn't bound in any way. She glanced around the room, looking for a door though she knew that it would be locked. She spotted it across the room and tried to struggle to her feet, but her head suddenly began to throb. She sank back down to the floor painfully.

"They knocked you out about halfway there," came Jackson's voice through the darkness, not surprising Lisa in the least and comforting her a great deal. "Baseball bat; not the nicest way."

"No," Lisa agreed, wincing as she touched the back of her head. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," Jackson admitted. "They knocked me out only a little while after you."

"Why?" Lisa asked, rubbing the lump painfully.

"I kicked one of them in the face," Jackson replied proudly. Lisa chuckled humorlessly.

"Well this is just great," she muttered, resting her head carefully against the wall. She heard the scraping of jeans on concrete, and then she felt Jackson's arm lightly graze her own as he sat down next to her.

"Don't worry," he said. "I found a broken metal pole in the back over there. It's nice and sharp, too. We'll get out of this."

"What do you mean?" Lisa asked suspiciously.

"Well," Jackson said, turning towards her slightly so she could just see his face in the darkness. "When they send someone to get us, that person will most definitely be armed. But they won't send more than two people at a time, because A: they can't afford to waste all their security on us after that fire, and B: they probably think we'll still be knocked out. So they open the door and…well…I think you get the idea."

"What if you're wrong?" Lisa asked pointedly. Jackson shrugged.

"If I'm wrong, they're not going to do anything," Jackson said. "Because they need us."

"They don't need us," Lisa replied. "They just want us."

"There's something bigger than that at stake," Jackson replied. "I know there is."

"What are you talking about?" Lisa asked slowly.

"They want to do something," Jackson said. "And they're going to use this kidnapping as a distraction. Everyone's gonna be on this, Leese. Did you notice how Ben was very deliberate about what he said? I think this whole thing was a set up."

"What?" Lisa asked, still not following a word. Jackson sighed.

"Ben mentioned that with Hillman gone, Derrick was the head of the organization. He didn't seem too upset about that fact at all. In fact, he seemed to think this was something to be happy about."

"So you're saying they made us and Andropov go to the warehouse so they could get Andropov and Hillman killed and Derrick could basically control everything," Lisa said, finally beginning to understand.

"Yes," Jackson said. "But there's gotta be something else they're planning on doing…I just don't know what it is yet."

"Why does there have to be something bigger?" Lisa asked, sounding discouraged once again after her brief shining moment.

"Because they're using this kidnapping as a distraction," Jackson repeated. "The way Ben was talking…he was telling them what he was planning on doing with you…he wants them to try to find us."

Why would he want that?" Lisa asked.

"Because either he or Derrick has something planned and they want this distraction," Jackson said. He put his head in his hands thoughtfully. "I just don't know what they want."

"Maybe it's Keefe?" Lisa suggested. Jackson shook his head.

"No," he said. "The Organization couldn't give a shit about Keefe; that was all Andropov."

They sat in silence for a short while, thinking to themselves. After a while, Lisa shifted slightly and felt something digging into her hip. She frowned and reached into her pocket, her eyes widening.

"Jackson," she whispered eagerly.

"What?" he asked in reply, hearing the urgency in her voice and glancing at her.

"The gun," Lisa replied. "They didn't check my pockets."

Lisa couldn't discern his facial expression, but she knew his eyebrows would be raised in that way they always did when something surprising happened.

"They didn't?" he asked, his hand reaching out and tentatively finding her wrist, following it down to the gun clasped in her hand. "Well," he said, sounding actually cheerful. "This will certainly help us out."

Lisa frowned with a sudden thought.

"What if it's a trap?" she asked. Jackson considered for a moment.

"I don't know how they'd manage to make that a trap," Jackson replied. "They probably just assumed that since you were cowering behind a box when you were taken that you didn't have any sort of weapon."

"They're that stupid?" Lisa asked doubtfully.

"Ben is," Jackson replied. Lisa nodded begrudgingly; she would give him that one.

"Here," she said, placing the gun into his hands. "You take it."

"No," Jackson said, shaking his head and pushing it back to her. "I'll take the pole. I do better with sharp objects anyway. You're the gun woman."

Lisa sighed and looked down at the gun in her hand. She didn't want to kill anyone. On the other hand, she did want to live. She sighed again and rested her head back against the wall.

It was then that the full impact of what had happened hit her, and she was overcome with a need to cry out her shock. She felt tears prickling in her eyes and felt a lump growing in the back of her throat. She could feel the sobs coming and she held them back as long as she could, but she knew they were going to come about eventually.

As if he knew that she was going to cry before she even started, Jackson put his arm around Lisa's shoulders and pulled her to him. She found herself with her head leaning on his shoulder, and his scent invading her nostrils. She suddenly felt comforted, but still she began to cry. Jackson hushed her and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her into a comforting hug. Lisa buried her face in his chest, eight hundred different moods and emotions running through her brain at once and colliding and clashing and tumbling over one another until Lisa was so confused she couldn't do anything but cling to him weakly and cry.

After a little while, her head cleared, and she looked up at him. He looked back down, and this time there wasn't any hesitation as Jackson's lips captured Lisa's, and he gripped her tightly in his arms. Lisa's hands tentatively placed themselves on either side of Jackson's face, and she deepened the kiss, closing her eyes. Jackson moved so he was kneeling in front of her, and her back was pressed against the hard concrete wall. Her hands traveled down to his neck, and she wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer. His hands traveled to her waist, and he similarly pulled her towards him so that there was not a bit of space between them.

Finally, Lisa realized that her lungs were bursting, and she pulled back from the kiss lightly, looking up at Jackson and breathing heavily as countless emotions surged through her. Jackson looked down at her with the same intensity in his blue eyes that Lisa was currently feeling. He sighed lightly, and the breeze from it rustled lightly through her hair. His forehead rested against hers, and they stared at one another, both of them knowing what had just happened but not quite able to accept it.

After a while, Jackson's eyes slid closed, and he pulled Lisa into his arms. Lisa felt tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes, and she allowed him to hold her. She knew that he would need his own time to deal with that had just happened, just as she needed time to deal with the fact that the man she was kissing was Jackson Rippner. But, she thought to herself as she rested her head against his chest comfortably, nothing in the world had ever felt more right.

* * *

Joe Reisert sat waiting outside Sergeant Greene's office, resting his head in his hands and trying hard to keep awake. There was nothing more that he wanted in the world, next to finding his daughter safe and sound, than to pass out on his bed and sleep for the next three years. But until Lisa was at home, he vowed to himself that he wasn't going to go home. He couldn't be sleeping; not when she was out there fighting for her life.

The man at the front desk watched him with unconcealed interest and sympathy. Joe pretended not to notice. He didn't feel like having to explain why he was so upset, or why he was still at the station at two o'clock in the morning.

Sergeant Greene's door opened at last, and he stepped out into the hallway, nodding to Joe. Joe walked in, limping slightly as a result of his utter exhaustion. Brian looked as if he had just awoken after a full night's sleep. Joe would have been envious of that ability if he wasn't in such mental distress. As it was, he briefly noted to himself that Brian didn't look remotely tired.

"Are you ready to explain it to me?" Joe asked, practically snapping at the other man. Greene, however, either didn't notice or really didn't care. He just looked at Joe, his expression hinting at confusion.

"Explain what?" he asked innocently.

"What happened back there," Joe replied. "Why did Rippner want to go with Lisa? What did you give him? What did you mean by 'not for long?"

"Okay, okay, okay," Greene said, holding his hands straight out, palms facing towards Joe. "Calm down. I'll explain everything, but you're going to have listen to me and try to contain your indignant outbursts until the end, all right?"

It was plain that Joe was about to retort with an indignant remark, but then realized that that was exactly what Brian was saying and he closed his mouth.

"Fine," he muttered darkly. Brian pulled open his desk and took out a small box. He opened it. Inside was what looked like a small microphone. He handed it to Joe.

"This is a microphone," he said, confirming Joe's earlier suspicions.

"And?" Joe asked, shrugging, not really sure why that was so important.

"It's what I gave Rippner," Brian said. "One just like it, anyway."

"Why does he need a microphone?" Joe asked, arching an eyebrow as he examined the microphone carefully. It really was quite tiny.

"It transmits to us," Brian replied. "He hides it on him, and we hear everything that goes on."

"What if they find it?" Joe asked. Brian shook his head.

"They won't," he replied. "Trust me. Rippner's never been caught with one of these things before."

"How do you know?" Joe asked suspiciously. Brian sighed.

"I have my ways of finding things out," he said cryptically. It was Joe's turn to sigh, but this time with annoyance.

"All I want," he said tightly. "Is for my little girl to be safe. Will this help us find her?"

"Yes," Brian replied. "But it also involves putting a lot of trust in Rippner. Do you think you can do that?"

Joe sighed and ran a hand over his head. He couldn't believe it had come down to trusting the man who had kidnapped his daughter in the first place.

"If it helps her be safe," he replied. Brian nodded.

"Okay," he said, letting out a sigh of relief. "Now, Rippner hasn't turned on his microphone yet. It's possible he was knocked out and was unable to get it on in time."

"What if he's dead?" Joe asked bluntly. Brian shook his head.

"They won't kill him right away," Brian replied. "Besides, even if they attempted, he'd never let them. I've never met a tougher man in all my life. He's got a soft spot for women, too, though he never lets on. He'd rather die than let your daughter be harmed. Count yourself lucky that she's with him."

"I'm not counting anything lucky until she's back here," Joe replied in a cold voice. Brian nodded sadly, and didn't say anything for a long moment.

"When he turns the microphone on, we'll immediately be notified," he said quietly.

"Where is it?" Joe asked. Brian looked at him questioningly.

"Where's what?" he asked.

"Where's the other end of the microphone?" Joe asked.

"You mean where we can hear the transmission?" Brian asked. Joe nodded. Brian nodded his head in the general direction of the hallway. "Down the hall."

"Can we wait there?" Joe asked. "I want…I want to be there when it turns on."

Brian nodded sympathetically.

"Sure," he said. "We can go."

He got to his feet, and Joe gave him a grateful look before he too stood up shakily. They shared a glance, and Joe nodded thankfully before walking out of the room.

Joe had been sitting in the tech room for at least twenty minutes before he heard the little speaker crackle to life. He was alone in the room, but he knew that wouldn't last long. He knew as soon as the microphone was activated, little alarms would be going off everywhere. But for the moment, he was alone with the sound of light breathing that he knew was Lisa's.

"What is it?"

Her voice. He closed his eyes and felt the tears squeezing out, putting his head in his hands. He didn't know that just hearing her voice could do that to him, but there he was, crying. She sounded fine. She sounded healthy. He had never been more relived in his life.

"It's a microphone," came another voice; one he didn't recognize. He guessed it had to be Jackson. "Brian's gonna be on my ass after we get out of here for forgetting to turn it on."

"If we get out of here," Lisa said drearily.

"Don't talk like that, Leese," Joe murmured under his breath, shaking his head and feeling more tears creeping up. "You're gonna be fine."

"Don't talk like that, Leese," Jackson said only a moment later. "We're gonna be fine."

Joe stared at the microphone with something like respect in his gaze. He heard a light rustling, then a light crying that he knew to be Lisa's.

"I'm so scared," she whimpered, and he heard more rustling. He could imagine Jackson holding her, and he hoped for Lisa's sake that that was what was happening. He knew how she worked, and he knew that though she would pretend to hate physical contact, at her weakest moments there was nothing she needed more. Even though the thought of that man touching her in any way made him sick, he knew she would need it.

The door behind him opened, and Greene walked in followed by two other men that Joe didn't recognize. Suddenly, the moment felt very wrong and invasive. Joe knew Lisa didn't like other people seeing or hearing her cry. The fact that she didn't even know that three strangers were listening to her at her weakest made him feel a little sick to his stomach. He turned to Brian.

"Do they have to be in here?" he asked. Brian paused for a moment, then heard Lisa sobbing, and he turned and nodded to the other men.

"Go outside," he said. They seemed to understand, and they nodded their heads to him formally before walking out the door and closing it behind them.

Brian pulled up a chair beside Joe and sat down at the table with the laptop that was emitting the noise. There was a long silence, broken only by the soft rustling and the occasional whimper from Lisa. Finally, Jackson cleared his throat, evidently about to speak.

"There's no need to be scared, Leese," he said gently. "Nothing's going to happen to you. I'm going to make sure of that, okay?"

"I just want to see my father," Lisa replied in a broken voice. Joe's hand gripped the edge of the table tightly, and he closed his eyes, fighting off the tears.

"I know, Lisa," Jackson said in a careful voice. "I'm sure he just wants to see you too and misses you very, very much. So how about we just pull it all together for dear old dad and get the hell out of here?"

"Okay," Lisa said, her voice sounding stronger now. "How are we supposed to get out?"

"Just keep that gun handy," Jackson replied. Brian's eyebrows rose.

"They have a weapon," he said thoughtfully. "Good. We'd better hope Lisa's a good shot. Jackson's terrible."

"Good to know," Joe said, sounding sick again.

"What are you going to do with that?" Lisa's voice came suddenly over the speaker. There was a loud clank, and a sharp intake of breath. Lisa let out a nervous chuckle. "Try not to do that again," she said.

"Sorry," Jackson said, chuckling as well. "I was just…testing your trust in me."

"Of course," Lisa said. "Crushing my head with a giant pole is a good indication of my trust."

"Exactly," Jackson said. "But try to focus, Leese. Really, with all your fooling around, we're never going to get anything done."

"Terribly sorry, Mr. Rippner," Lisa said mockingly. "Please, continue with your no doubt ingenious plan."

Brian smiled slightly to himself, and Joe caught the corners of his mouth twitching up as well. He quickly reverted to a worried frown, though he still couldn't help but feel a lot more at ease. Though Lisa still wasn't safe, she was a lot closer to it than she had been before.

* * *

"So what am I going to do when the door opens?" Jackson asked Lisa, standing behind the metal door that was keeping them in.

"Hit whoever comes in with the pole," Lisa answered.

"And then what are you going to do?" Jackson asked.

"Shoot them," Lisa replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And then keep shooting if there's anyone else."

"Exactly," Jackson said. "Anything else?"

"After I shoot the first man, you're going to drag him inside and get his gun and anything else that might be of use. You're going to get it ready for me so when I run out of bullets, I can use it, in case there's more than two men."

"Good," Jackson said, pointing at her. "Now, if, for some reason, I don't make it out of here, I want you to take the gun and I want you to run. They're not going to shoot you, but if I'm not here to protect you, I don't know what they'll do."

Through the darkness of the room, Lisa could see that he looked pained. She shook her head.

"Nothing's going to happen to you," she said firmly, more to reassure herself than anything else.

"I'm just saying…just in case," Jackson replied calmly. Lisa shot him a glare. Jackson gave her a look right back.

"So what now?" Lisa asked. "We just sit here, waiting for someone to come get us? What if they never do?"

"Oh, they'll be coming soon," Jackson said, pressing his ear to the door. "I don't hear anyone yet, but as soon as I hear movement, I'll let you know."

"Good," Lisa said, rolling her eyes. "It might help."

Jackson shot her a playful glare.

"It would also help if you would shut your mouth and focus."

Lisa sighed and sat down against the shelves, yawning. She felt like she hadn't slept in years, though she had just been knocked out in the backseat of some car. Watching Jackson through the darkness, she wondered if something really was going to happen to him. She wasn't sure she'd be able to deal with that.

* * *

"Is there any way we can communicate with them?" Joe asked. He wanted to be able to talk to his daughter.

"No," Brian said, looking at Joe sympathetically. "I wish there was, Joe. But it would be too risky to be communicating with them when they're in there."

Joe nodded. He pretended to understand though he really thought that was a load of bullshit. There was a long silence on the microphone, and neither he nor Brian wanted to break it, though there was so much to say. Every time someone moved, or a rustle of clothing came over the speaker, both men would tense up, but it never yielded anything, and they would slump back down in their seats, looking dejected.

Suddenly, there was a movement. Both men tensed up, glancing at one another.

"They're coming," said Jackson.

* * *

"They're coming," Jackson whispered to Lisa. She got a good hold on the gun, bracing herself back against the shelves. Jackson assured her that she was hidden in the shadows, but she wasn't so sure.

"How many are there?" she asked, knowing that he and his well-trained ear would know just from the sound of footsteps exactly how many men there were and roughly what size.

"Two," Jackson said, looking at her smugly. "Neither of them is very big. Probably unimportant cronies."

"Good," Lisa said, unsarcastic for once. Jackson nodded and positioned himself behind the door, wielding his metal pole carefully. The doorknob rattled slightly as a hand grasped it on the other side, and Lisa could hear the sound of bolts being drawn back. There was an agonizingly long pause, then the door slowly opened.

As soon as Lisa saw the angry, scarred face of the man behind the door, she fired, hitting him in the head and spraying blood all over the face of his shocked companion. Lisa hesitated, seeing the fear on the young man's face as he gaped in horror at the body of his fallen comrade. Fortunately, Jackson sensed her reluctance to kill him, and he appeared from behind the door, slamming the pole into his head. More blood sprayed onto the door, and Jackson dragged the man inside. Lisa closed her eyes and put her head back against the shelves, trying to quell the nausea rising within her. Jackson was pulling the weapons off the dead men with a practiced ease, throwing them into the center of the room.

"Come on, Leese," he said, the barest traces of sympathy in his voice overshadowed by an intense urgency. "We have to get out of here. Get one of the guns."

Lisa slipped her gun into the jacket pocket and picked up the much larger one that Jackson handed her. She examined it coldly.

"Is it ready?" she asked. "I don't know how to load it or anything…"

"It's ready," Jackson said, nodding. He himself was wielding a knife; which wasn't all that surprising. He handed Lisa another gun, which she slung over her shoulder by the strap attached to it. Jackson took a moment to look at her, grinning despite his earlier urgency.

"What?" Lisa asked self consciously.

"You look like Rambo," Jackson said snidely. Lisa glared at him.

"Come on," she said. Jackson nodded and peered out into the hallway, holding up a hand to stop her, as if she really would have cut in front of him. He beckoned to her, and she sighed and followed him out into the hallway.

* * *

"Do you have any idea where we are?" Lisa's voice asked over the microphone.

"Not yet," Jackson said thoughtfully. "It looks pretty much like any other Organization building I've seen."

"Isn't that what you're wearing that thing for?" Lisa whispered harshly. "So you can tell them where we are?"

"I'm working on it!" Jackson shot back.

"They seem to be getting along well," Brian observed sarcastically. Joe snorted under his breath.

"I'm just glad she's stopped playing the submissive hostage," Joe said. Brian nodded.

"It's good to hear someone give Rippner a piece of their mind for once," he agreed. "Doesn't happen often."

Joe leaned closer to the microphone. Lisa was whispering something under her breath to Jackson that he couldn't quite catch. Brian noticed it too and turned up the volume.

"Right there, to the left," Lisa whispered hoarsely. "There's three of them, moving this way. What are we supposed to do?"

"They don't see us," Jackson whispered back. "Here, hurry."

There was the sound of rustling, then heavy breathing, and dim shouting in the background.

"They've found the bodies," Lisa whispered with fright.

* * *

Jackson nodded and peered out the doorway, into the sea of cubicles. He could just barely see the closet where they had been locked, in a remote corner. After a long pause, a man walked out. Jackson ducked back into the office and returned to where Lisa was standing flat against the wall, hidden from sight.

"Shit," he muttered. "They'll be putting an alert out."

"What are we supposed to do?" Lisa asked fearfully, her eyes growing wide.

"I'm thinking," Jackson said with annoyance. He glanced left and right, then his eyes settled on the glass paperweight that was sitting on the desk.

He walked over to the desk and picked the paperweight up, holding it up triumphantly.

"What are you going to do with that?" Lisa asked skeptically. "Hold them down so they don't blow away?"

"It's called a distraction, Leese," Jackson retorted. He glanced out into the hallway again. The three men at the door were turned the other way. Jackson took a deep breath and hurled the paperweight with all his might. It flew across the cubicles, crashing against the wall on the other side of the large room, flying out of sight into the opposite hallway. The heads of all three men snapped up, and they started running towards where the sound had come from. Jackson grabbed Lisa's hand. "Come on!" he exclaimed in a whisper. Lisa ran after him, her guns still in her hands, and they ducked as they ran down the hall.

Jackson spotted the telltale red exit sign, and he whispered urgently to Lisa that they should go in that direction. She nodded, spotting the sign as well, and they sprinted towards it.

They reached the door and glanced both ways, making sure that no one was coming before quietly pushing the door open and exhaling with relief simultaneously.

"Do you have any idea where we are yet?" Lisa asked. Jackson shook his head.

"No," he said. "I've never been here before."

Lisa sighed, frustrated tears pricking her eyes painfully. They ran down the first flight of stairs with ease, and then continued down the second. There were only a few floors in this building, thankfully. They reached the bottom floor after only half a minute, barely out of breath. Jackson headed for the door.

"Wait!" Lisa exclaimed. "Johnson Athletic!"

"What?" Jackson asked, turning to look at Lisa. She was pointing to a small sign beside the door. It did indeed say "Johnson Athletic".

* * *

"Johnson Athletic!" Brian exclaimed, standing up.

"I know where that is!" Joe said eagerly. "My wife used to work there!"

Brian pulled his walkie-talkie off the table and pressed the talk button.

"Tomelson!" he exclaimed. "Johnson Athletic. Every bit of information you can find, get it. And get me a map. I wanna be able to get there in less than thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes!" Joe exclaimed. "That's too long!"

"It's the best we can do," Brian said. "Our men are still reeling from the firefight. We've got five wounded, and one dead, Joe. No one wants to go back out there. We need to get a force together and ready to go, and that ain't gonna happen magically." He sighed and ran a hand over his face, and Joe saw for the first time how tired Brian was.

"Okay," he said mildly, turning back to look at the laptop as if he could see Lisa.

"We'll go as fast as we can," Brian promised. Joe nodded quietly, suddenly feeling very numb.

* * *

"I know where we are now," Jackson said. "We're going to want to exit the building from the side entrance; the right. Out there there's a wooded area. We'll be able to get out to the road from there.

"Okay," Lisa said, nodding and exhaling shakily. Jackson peered out the small window that led out to the hallway of the first floor. "Anyone?"

"Not that I can see," Jackson said, sounding relieved. "But be ready just in case."

Lisa nodded and tightened her hold on her weapon. Jackson slowly eased the door open, and they crept out silently into the hallway. Lisa turned and looked to the left, while Jackson looked to the right. There was no one coming from either direction, and there was no sound at all in the building. Lisa was beginning to feel a little uneasy, and it was clear from the look on Jackson's face that he was feeling the same way. He nodded to Lisa and they took off jogging to the right, glancing behind them every now and then to make sure there wasn't anyone following them. They came to a halt as they reached a corner, but a quick peek around it revealed that there was nothing in that direction. Jackson was really beginning to look disturbed, and he glanced around him once before sighing heavily and continuing down the hallway. Lisa wanted to ask him if he thought it was a trap, but she didn't want to break the deadly silence. She had some childish fear that if she broke the silence, at once they would be surrounded by men wielding weapons far greater than her two little guns.

Jackson led her down the hallway, and then down another, and another, until Lisa wasn't sure what direction they had come form, or what direction they were going. For all she knew, they could be running around in circles. Finally, they spotted the red exit sign above the door. Out the window, Lisa could see the trees beckoning to them, offering shelter and escape. She felt her eyes fill with tears and wondered when she became so emotional that she would cry at the sight of trees.

She laughed to herself, and Jackson turned around to smile at her, as if he had read her mind.

"We're almost there," he said. And it was then that everything went wrong.

* * *

Brian burst into the room, holding a folder in his hand.

"Let's go," he said to Joe as two men entered and picked up the laptop, carrying it out of the room.

"Where are they taking it?" Joe asked, panicking. "What if something happens to them?"

"Earpiece," Brian said simply, holding it out to Joe and showing it how to put it into his ear. "Now come on, we've gotta get moving. It's gonna take us longer to get there than we expected."

"How long?" Joe asked, sighing with relief when he heard Lisa's dim voice talking into the earpiece. Brian shifted his gaze away, looking slightly embarrassed. Joe's eye hardened. "How far away is it, Brian."

"Forty-five minutes," Brian said, looking Joe in the eyes at last. The impact of his words hit Joe hard, and he gasped.

"Forty-five minutes?" he asked, horrified. "What if something happens to her?"

"That's why we're leaving right now," Brian said. He started towards the door but froze when he heard something on his earpiece. Joe heard it too, and he yelled with horror.

* * *

The bullet struck Jackson in the leg, right in the thigh. He yelled with surprise and pain and flew backwards, landing on his back. Lisa screamed, reacting quickly and whirling around to face the man who had just shot Jackson. Without waiting for Jackson's command, she opened fire. The man's face seemed to explode into a thousand pieces, which only made Lisa scream louder. Her stomach heaved, and she could feel the bile rising in her throat, but she fought it down and ran to Jackson's side. He was attempting to stand, but his wound looked like it was hurting him. Lisa allowed him to put his arm across her shoulders, and she started hauling him towards the door.

Lisa didn't know how it had happened, but suddenly they were surrounded. Men appeared in the doorway, holding huge guns and glaring at them threateningly. Lisa raised her weapon, but she felt cold steel pressing into her back, and a cold voice hissed in her ear.

"Don't even think about it," it growled in a familiar tone. Ben grabbed her by her hair and pulled her roughly away from Jackson who was then grabbed by two bigger men.

"Jackson!" Lisa screamed. Jackson managed to free one of his hands, and he grabbed his knife off the ground, slashing at the face of the man who was holding him. The man screamed in pain, and at once the men with the guns stepped forward, blocking Lisa's view of Jackson as she was dragged further down the hallway. They started beating Jackson with their guns as he continued to desperately fight against them. "Jackson!" Lisa screamed again, trying to gain some footing in the hallway, but she kept being dragged backwards. Panicking, she threw her elbow back and heard a satisfying hiss of pain as she got him in the groin. Turning around, she swung the strap of the gun as hard as she could, and it hit Ben off the side of the face, knocking him against the wall. He somehow managed to keep his footing, and barreled towards her, roaring angrily. Lisa screamed and tried to backpedal, but ended up falling to the ground instead.

Raising her gun, she was just getting ready to pull the trigger when someone grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides and hauling her back along the hallway. As they turned the corner, she could just barely see Jackson being beaten still, though he was no longer fighting, or even moving.

"Jackson!" she screamed again. "Jackson!"

It did no good. Moments later, she felt something over her mouth, and before she knew what it was, she had passed out.

* * *

Joe listened with horror as his daughter's screams faded into the background and the sickening crunch of Jackson's beating continued. Brian swore and slammed his hand against the console of the cruiser as he tried to dial a number on his cell phone again.

"Goddammit!" he growled angrily. Joe looked at him, feeling sick.

"Aren't there any other police in the area that could go check it out?"

"It's in the middle of nowhere, Joe," Brian said sympathetically, dialing the number once again. "The place is completely isolated. Nothing out there but that building and acres of trees."

"She's in danger!" Joe exclaimed.

"I know!" Brian yelled back. There was a long silence, then Brian's face lit up considerably as whoever it was who had been trying to call picked up the phone. "Jimmy! Goddammit, man, why don't you ever pick up your fucking phone?"

"What the hell?" the man called Jimmy yelled back. Brian's phone was up so loud, Joe could clearly hear what he was saying. "What you doing attacking me for? We got a kid down here shot in the leg. I ain't got time to be playing secretary in my office!"

Brian sighed.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I just…Jimmy, we're in a fucking mess right now."

"Good for you," Jimmy retorted. "I'm in a fucking mess right now too thanks to you showing up and busting the operation!"  
"I didn't know they were going to be there!" Brian exclaimed. "I thought it was going to be empty!"

"Yeah, well now I've got a man dead, Brian!" Jimmy yelled, and Joe was surprised to hear that he was crying. "Two men if you count Gregory, who's still fucking missing. You know who died, Brian? You wanna know who fucking died?"

"Who?" Brian asked, looking sick.

"Philippe O'Connell, that's who," Jimmy said viciously. Brian looked sick.

"No…No, Jimmy, he's not really dead, is he?" he asked. Joe tried hard to not listen to the microphone in his ear, which was still giving off those disgusting crunching noises.

"He's dead," Jimmy replied. "And so's Andropov and Hillman. And I don't even know where the fuck Jackie is. If he's dead too, I swear on my mother's grave, Greene, our friendship ain't gonna mean shit. You know that boy means the world to me."

Brian paused for a long time, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath.

"That's what I've been meaning to talk to you about," he said. There was another long pause, and then Jimmy swore under his breath, sounding defeated.

"Shit, Brian…he ain't dead, is he?" he asked, sounding like a child. Brian sighed.

"I don't know," he said. "But some idiot took him and Lisa Reisert out to Johnson Athletic."

"Fuck, Johnson Athletic?" Jimmy asked weakly.

"Yeah," Brian said, looking confused. "You know something about that?"

"That's where people go in and don't come out, Brian," Jimmy replied, sounding hurt. "That sick fuck Derrick runs the place. Guess he'd be the head of operations now…but that place is where he lives and gets his pleasure out of killing all the people who rub him the wrong way. He's a real head case Bri…you wanna save that girl's life, you get over there as fast as you can. I'll be down there with a crew as soon as we're done here."

"Thanks, Jimmy," Brian said, sighing heavily and running a hand through his hair. "Try to hurry."

"Yeah," Jimmy said shortly, and there was a click. Brian sighed and put the phone down.

"Who was that?" Joe asked.

"My friend, Jimmy," Brian said, his eyes firmly focused on the road.

"What were you talking about when you said you thought the warehouse was empty?" Joe asked slowly, sounding slightly angry. Brian winced inwardly; he had known that was coming.

"There wasn't any tip," he said, figuring that honesty was the best way to go. "I called up Jimmy when you came to us, and he told me the whole story."

"Which was?" Joe asked indignantly. "You didn't think to tell me while you were at it?"

"I knew you wouldn't understand!" Brian exclaimed. "You were so hell bent on getting your daughter back, I knew you wouldn't take the time to realize that Jimmy was right."

"About what?" Joe asked angrily.

"Jimmy told me that Jackson Rippner was trying to protect your daughter from the Organization, but was caught and had to pretend to be working on their side. When they got caught in the fire, they had to get out of there, so they made their way to Jimmy's."

"Why didn't she get out when she could?" Joe asked. "She wouldn't go with him willingly! She would have gotten out of there!"

"She understood that she was nowhere near safe," Brian said rationally. "The man who wanted her dead, Yuri Andropov, was still alive, and still wanted revenge. She understood that the only way to get things back to normal was to hide out until he was killed."

"Well look where that got her!" Joe exclaimed bitterly. "What about police protection? She could have been safe!"

"You don't know much about Yuri Andropov, do you?" Brian asked. Joe shook his head reluctantly. "If you did, maybe you'd be a little quicker to realize that the man doesn't give up that easily. It wouldn't have mattered how much protection you put Lisa under; she would have ended up dead. Fortunately, she was smart enough to stick with Jimmy."

"But look where she is now!" Joe said furiously. "She could be dead!"

"But she has a chance," Brian said with conviction. "Which is more than she had before."

Joe fell silent, listening to the empty nothingness that was the microphone. All he wanted was a hint of Lisa, but the only sound was the ragged, broken breathing of Jackson. It was painful to listen to, and he closed his eyes, pressing his hand against his forehead. Part of him wanted to rip the earpiece out of his ear, but he knew he wouldn't be able to do that. He had to hear if Lisa came back.

They drove off in silence for a long while, the other patrol cars surrounding them and driving along quickly. Joe closed his eyes and listened to the labored breathing of the man who kidnapped his daughter. He noticed that the breathing pattern of the young man seemed to change, and he frowned, covering his other ear with his hand and listening closer. He realized that Jackson was whispering something to himself quietly. He only had to listen for a moment to decipher what it was, and his face hardened.

"Lisa," Jackson was whimpering painfully in a hoarse whisper. "Lisa…"


	16. Bury me, Bury me

Phew, so here we go. Finally. I've been wicked sick lately so this is my first time on the computer in a while, hahaha. Thank God for snow and snow days :D

Thanks to my amazing reviewers! I almost have 200 reviews! Hell yes! Haha, and you know what amuses me? For this chapter there were 15 reviews…and it was chapter 15 :D! Okay…come on, seriously, that's funny! Or maybe that's just the cough medicine talking. Anyway, please review again! I will love you forever and ever and ever!

**Dollymomma: **I'm trying to put out the chapters faster, but it never seems to happen, hahaha. I just lack motivation! Haha, thanks for reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter 16:** Bury Me, Bury Me

Come,  
Break me down  
**Bury me, bury me**  
I am finished with you  
Look in my eyes  
You're killing me, killing me  
All I wanted was you.

**30 Seconds to Mars  
The Kill

* * *

**

Lisa awoke in darkness. When she opened her eyes, she was met with a momentary sense of disorientation when she couldn't see anything, before she realized that she was in utter darkness. She tried to move her hands and legs, and discovered that once again, she was not bound. She was lying on a cold concrete floor, sprawled out uncomfortably, so she sat up, rubbing her pained neck and trying to clear her foggy head.

"Jackson?" she whispered into the black void. Nothing moved, and nothing made any noise, but Lisa was filled with a horrible sense of fear that there was something in the darkness, reaching out towards her.

Filled with a horrible panic, she felt along the floor desperately, finally coming to a hard wooden wall. Feeling along it like a blind woman, she found a shelf. Praying for a gun, or at least something to defend herself with, she only succeeded in giving herself a rather large splinter. Swearing under her breath, she fell to her knees and felt along on the floor. Crawling from one end of the room to the other seemed to be around ten feet. She assumed she was in another sort of supply closet, though this one was decidedly smaller than the last one.

There was a desk in one corner of the room, making the room seem smaller than it really was. Lisa felt around in the drawers for a flashlight, but there was nothing. The entire room seemed to have been cleaned out. She sighed and tried to keep the tears from falling, but they fell anyway. She forced herself to not think of Jackson or what may have happened to him, and she continued to feel around the room. She found a rolling chair, and on top of it a large, fluffy blanket.

Feeling like a small child making a fort, Lisa crawled along on her hands and knees, crawling into the leg space beneath the desk, wrapping herself in the blanket and lying down on the ground, using her arms as a pillow. Somehow, it made her feel more secure, being in such a small space, and she lay there comfortably, trying to control her raging fears.

Her first fear was that Jackson was dead. Out of everything she could have been afraid of, that was first and foremost on her mind. She had seen what they were doing to him; how they had attacked him like they did. She shuddered slightly at the memory. They had been so robotic in their movements, as if they weren't really people at all, but simple killing machines designed to assassinate.

They had also really seemed to have a thing against Jackson. She supposed it was because he had been the favorite of the Organization. They must have had some grudge against him, because they were jealous. The thought of a defenseless Jackson left at the mercy of those eight or so jealous men was frightening enough to make Lisa pull the blanket tighter around her as she continued her battle with the tears that threatened to fall at any minute.

Finally, for the first time since it had happened, Lisa allowed herself to think about the kiss. He had kissed her. He had actually kissed her. And if that wasn't bad enough, she had let him kiss her. She had kissed him back. She still wasn't sure what had happened or what she was thinking when she did it, but she knew that she didn't regret it.

As she thought, she found herself curling into a protective ball. Two tears slowly crept out of the corners of her eyes, and she began to cry softly. They were soft, almost mewling cries as she thought about her predicament and realized that she wasn't going home any time soon. She cried for Jackson and for the fact that she didn't have him to hold on to while she cried. She realized, then, that she had gotten used to his presence whenever she needed someone to cry to. She had come to view him as a comforting figure rather than a frightening one; as a friend rather than an enemy. But it was the fact that she might have realized it too late that made her cry the most, and she curled into herself and cried until she ran out of tears.

* * *

Lisa was near sleep when she heard keys rattling in the lock across the room. Groggily, she turned her head and was met with blackness once again. The door slowly opened, and light flooded the room as whoever it was turned on the light switch. Lisa's eyes squeezed shut as they entered the room, praying that they'd see her sleeping and would leave.

She heard boots walking across the floor to her little refuge, then she heard them walking away.

"She's out," a voice said with certainty. "Just throw him in and let's get outta here."

Someone outside the room mumbled an affirmative, and there was a harsh thumping noise before the door slammed closed. The tiny lightbulb above the closet still glowed dimly, and Lisa was able to see when she opened her eyes warily.

When she saw what was lying in the center of the floor, she almost screamed. It was Jackson, beat up and bleeding from more wounds than Lisa had ever seen on anyone in her life. He was crumpled into the same position Lisa had been in earlier, and his eyes were closed. He looked…dead.

"Jackson?" Lisa whispered fiercely, pushing the rolling chair away from the front of the desk and crawling out from under it, crawling quickly to his side and bending over him. "Jackson?"

She was starting to cry again, and she fought back the tears as her hands hovered over his broken body, not really sure what to do. She glanced around the room briefly for a first aid kit, but there was nothing there that would help her. The room was, as she had earlier suspected, completely cleaned out of anything useful.

Not knowing what else to do, Lisa pulled Jackson into her arms, sobbing into his hair and rocking him back and forth as if he were a small child. His thin body lay limply across her lap, and she found it frightening in a way to see a man so intimidating in such a weak state. It was like seeing someone without any clothing on. It felt wrong and invasive.

Lisa was suddenly reminded of how she had gone to the hospital to see Jackson when he was recovering from the bullet wounds that she and her father had put in him. He had been having a nightmare when she walked in, and he was pleading with her in his sleep to not let someone hurt her. At the time, she had felt like she was invading his privacy, almost, by seeing him so weak and degenerated. She was seeing a whole new side of him that she knew she wasn't supposed to see.

Still, she rocked him back and forth and wrapped the two of them in the blanket to keep him warm. He was shivering in the air-conditioned air, though it wasn't even that cold. Lisa pulled him closer to her heart, hoping to warm him that way.

She didn't know how long they were sitting there for, but she knew that it had been at least ten minutes before Jackson moved. He stirred lightly; groaning and whimpering slightly in a way that made Lisa clutch him tighter.

"Lisa?" he whispered as his eyes slowly cracked open. Lisa nodded wordlessly, finding that she couldn't say anything without letting tears fall. Jackson tried to sit up, but he winced in pain and instead remained with his head in Lisa's lap. "Are you okay?" he asked her worriedly. "Did they do anything to you?"

"No," Lisa said numbly. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Jackson asked. Lisa gave him a look.

"I'm sure," she said, her dangerous tone warning him not to ask her that again. He took the hint and didn't say anything else. "What about you? What did they do to you?"

"They questioned me," Jackson said bitterly. "Once I woke up from their beating, they questioned me."

"Questioned you…?" Lisa asked, not quite understanding. Jackson pushed himself into a sitting position with a determined expression on his face. Lisa's hand flew to his arm in an almost protective way. Absently, he took her hand off and held it in his own as he looked around the room.

"Interrogated is a better word," Jackson said, wincing. "Derrick's always been the best interrogator in the Organization."

"What did they want to know?" Lisa asked, trying not to think about what they may have done to him.

"They wanted to know where I really grew up," Jackson replied. He looked at Lisa and she could see the pain in his eyes. "They wanted me to tell them where Jimmy's complex was."

"Did you tell them?" Lisa breathed, her hand tightening on his.

"No," Jackson said coldly, looking down at their entwined fingers, his expression one of pain. "I didn't. I couldn't."

"What are they going to do now?" Lisa asked fearfully. "They're not just going to give up, are they?"

"I'm afraid not," Jackson said, sighing. "But I don't know what they're going to do. Probably interrogate me some more."

Lisa looked at him with wide eyes, and he saw that there were tears in them. For the first time in his life, he didn't get angry when he saw those tears of pity. He felt something welling in his heart, something he had almost forgotten. No, not love. Certainly not. More like fondness; compassion. He was staring at the face of a beautiful woman whose life could be over at any moment because of him. And despite everything he had done to her; despite everything he had said or made it seem like he felt, she still pitied him. She still saw him as more than just a monster. He didn't know how she did it, but she did.

"We have to get out of here," Lisa said with conviction, suddenly seeming to gain strength from some unknown source. She stood to her feet shakily, looking around the room with a fervent fear. All the shelves were cleaned of everything except dust and old newspapers. Though Lisa searched every corner of the room, there was absolutely nothing to be found.

"There's no way we're getting out of here," Jackson said darkly. "They're going to have a guard outside, now. This door's probably too strong to break out of…"

"Probably, maybe," Lisa retorted, whirling around to face him, her face a mask of determination that Jackson was surprised to see. "We don't know! We have to try."

"As long as we're here, you're not hurt," Jackson replied through clenched teeth. "If we go out there, who knows what might happen to you?"

"And you care?" Lisa asked with frustration, finally throwing her hands up in defeat. "Would it really bother you so much if I just died?"

Jackson stared at her for a moment, not really sure what it was she was saying. She was crying, and she was watching him, waiting for a response. Jackson thought for a moment, then opened his mouth, and closed it again. What was he supposed to say?

He didn't have to say anything, because Lisa broke the silence for them.

"I didn't think so," she said darkly, turning around to face the other direction. She had the same expression on her face as she had when she visited him in the hospital to determine that she was nothing more than her job. That expression that told him that she had really thought he cared about her, and she was learning the opposite.

Jackson struggled to his feet. Lisa turned around to look at him, her eyes narrowing.

"Sit down," she said, her voice laden with disgust.

"No," Jackson said forcefully, and he walked towards her purposely, grabbing her by the shoulders and looking down at her for a long while before finally pressing his lips to hers furiously.

* * *

Joe's mouth dropped open at the same moment as Brian's did. They glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes, both of them looking absolutely horrified.

"Drive faster!" Joe exclaimed.

* * *

Lisa pulled away from Jackson, gasping for breath.

"What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly. Jackson stared at her, as if trying to give her a hint. If that was the case, she didn't get the hint. She just stared at him, waiting for a response.

She never got to hear one. In the next moment, the door flew open, and suddenly the moment was broken as she was grabbed roughly from behind and pulled away from Jackson. He yelled and tried to grab her outstretched hand, but was beaten back and fell to the ground, yelling her name. She screamed and fought against her attacker, but she couldn't get the better of him this time. Ben stepped in front of her, glaring down at Jackson, who was still struggling to his feet. With a vicious kick, he brought Jackson flat on his back.

* * *

There was a loud crunching noise, and then silence. Brian swore under his breath angrily.

"He killed the bug," he growled, slamming his fist against the wheel of the car as he sped up. They were going at least seventy.

"What?" Joe asked incredulously.

"Someone killed the microphone," Brian replied furiously. "Destroyed it."

"Who was it?" Joe asked. "Was it Jackson?"

"I don't know," Brian replied. Joe sighed and hung his head in his hands, once again feeling completely and utterly helpless.

* * *

"Nice work, Rippner," Ben said, giving Jackson a knowing look. "Wouldn't have believed you could pull this one off."

"Ben," Jackson said dangerously.

"I mean, God, getting her to trust you like that…I'll admit, you're a good one. Hell, maybe the best."

"Ben," Jackson said again, a bit more urgently.

"You were right about one thing, Rippner. Gremmont couldn't have pulled that off. Hillman, Andropov, and Meyers all down. Now we're finally in control, buddy."

Lisa's eyes widened with shock as she stared at Jackson.

"You asshole," Jackson yelled, trying to tackle Ben. The other man just chuckled and dodged him easily. Jackson winced and held onto his ribs, which felt broken.

"Hey, I'm just letting her know what you were using her for all along," Ben said with mock sympathy. "I think she deserves to know that Jackson Rippner is nothing more than his job."

Lisa stopped struggling with her captor, and she stared at Jackson with her mouth open, glaring at him accusingly.

"Don't listen to him," Jackson said, pointing at Lisa and looking her in the eye. "He's trying to turn you against me. Don't listen to him, Leese!"

Lisa squeezed her eyes shut, and tears started to leak out of her eyes. She didn't know what to believe any more.

"You want me to stop, Jack, then tell me where the fuck Jimmy Paton's complex is."

"I can't tell you!" Jackson exclaimed. "You're not getting within ten feet of that complex as long as I'm alive!"

Ben shrugged.

"Fine," he said casually. "Have it your way." He turned and nodded to the man holding onto Lisa. He started backing out the doorway, dragging Lisa along with her. Lisa fought viciously, trying to pull away, as Jackson watched on helplessly.

"Let her go!" he shouted hoarsely.

"You tell us where Paton is, and we let her go," Ben replied. "You don't, and we kill her. And we'll make sure you can hear her screams, Rippner."

Jackson's face became paler than usual, and he stared at Lisa helplessly. She stared back, not knowing what she wanted him to choose. She didn't want him to tell them where Jimmy was, but she didn't want to die. She closed her eyes and wished that this could all be over.

"I'll tell you," Jackson said after a long pause. Ben smiled like a shark.

"Good," he said. "And don't even think of telling me some made up bullshit location, Rippner. If you do, we'll kill her."

Jackson's head hung low, and his shoulders slumped as he nodded. Lisa knew he was going to tell them.

"Jackson…" she started, but the man she was being held by roughly put his hand over her mouth. She tried to bite his hand, but he didn't seem to care.

"56 James Street," Jackson said darkly, his shoulders hunched over. "The warehouse."

"You better not be lying to me, Rippner," Ben said dangerously.

"I'm not," Jackson said, and the defeated tone in his voice clued Lisa in to the fact that he really wasn't lying. She felt like hitting him for it. How could he have betrayed his family? The only people who had ever cared about him? How could he do that? She was hit with a sudden realization. He cared about her.

"Let's go," the man holding Lisa said.

"We're going," Ben replied. He stepped forward and delivered a swift kick to Jackson's stomach, knocking him flat on his back. He spat on Jackson maliciously, and then nodded to the man holding Lisa. The man shoved her forward, sticking his foot out so she fell to the ground beside Jackson. With one last glare, Ben walked out, and he slammed the door behind him. Lisa closed her eyes and exhaled heavily. There was a long silence as the keys could be heard turning in the various locks that must have been on the back of the door. As soon as they heard footsteps retreating down the hallway, Lisa pushed herself to a kneeling position, glaring at Jackson accusingly.

"Why'd you tell them?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"They were going to kill you," Jackson responded robotically. Lisa felt a bubble of frustration growing within her, and she sighed, putting her hands to her head and breathing in slowly.

"That's your family back there," she said through clenched teeth. "You just gave them up…why would you do that?"

"They were going to kill you!" Jackson exclaimed, turning to face her with a dangerous look on his eye. "And they weren't going to do it in a nice way!"

"Why do you care?" Lisa asked, her voice a nearly hysterical pitch. She felt like screaming at him, and she didn't know why. He had just saved her life, but she wanted nothing more than to hit him.

Jackson sighed and put his head in his hands, shaking his head.

"I don't know," he said in a tone that surprised her. It was quiet and more reserved than she had ever heard him. He sounded almost…confused, in a way. Lisa sighed heavily and struggled to her feet, pacing around the room, running a hand through her hair, which was flying about her head wildly, somehow managing to look good despite all that she had been through.

"What do you mean you don't know?" she asked after a long pause. Jackson got to his feet with surprising speed and sturdiness, walking over to her with a frightening expression on his face. Lisa backed up in her surprise and hit her back against the desk in the corner. Jackson put his hands on the desk on either side of her, trapping her there.

"I mean, I don't know, Leese," he growled dangerously. Lisa arched her back to get away from him, and found herself gazing up into his eyes.

"How can you not know?" she growled, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes and knowing that she didn't have to back down. Not yet.

"It's complicated," Jackson growled, leaning forward so he was right in her face again. She took in a deep breath, then shoved him off of her as hard as she could. He started to fall, and he grabbed her wrist on the way down, bringing her down with him. She fell on her back beside him, but soon he was on top of her, holding her wrists above her head and holding her legs steady with his own.

"Complicated?" Lisa asked sarcastically. "Complicated? Oh, yes, Jack, your situation is so complicated." She attempted to head butt him, but he moved out of the way quickly.

"What do you mean?" he asked, grabbing onto her wrists tighter, grinning maliciously.

"How do you think I feel?" Lisa asked bitterly, once again attempting to head butt him, and this time managing quite nicely. He was stunned enough so that she could shove him off her and reverse the positions so she was pinning him to the ground. She knew she would have never been able to pull that off if he hadn't just been tortured extensively and shot in the leg, but she was proud of herself nonetheless. "You think your feelings are 'complicated', Jack, try looking at it from my point of view. You kidnapped me and tried to rape me. I shouldn't feel anything for you but hate!"

Jackson used his legs to flip Lisa on to her back, but she rolled out of the way and got to her feet, breathing heavily and staring down at him as he lay there, panting heavily.

"And what do you feel?" Jackson asked, his brow furrowing as the full impact of her words hit him. Lisa's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Pity," she spat. "And yes, when I thought they had killed you, I was upset, Jackson."

Jackson stared at her for a long moment, then started to stand up slowly. Lisa didn't offer a hand to help pull him up, but instead watched him struggle with her face emotionless. However, Jackson noticed that her hands twitched at her sides, as if her mind was telling her to go help him out, but her stubbornness refused to let her.

"Upset?" he asked.

"Yes, Jack!" Lisa exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "And what about you, Jackson. Would you care if you'd been in my position? Or do you not know if you would have cared or not? Would your emotions be too complicated? Because God forbid you feel anything for anyone you egotistical…"

Lisa was silenced by the sounds of gunshots in the hallway. Jackson grabbed Lisa's arm and practically shoved her to the ground behind the desk, shielding her body with his own.

"You don't know anything about me," he hissed into her ear as they huddled there, with the sounds of gunfire growing louder with every passing moment. "You don't know what I've had to do to survive all my life. You don't know how I feel about anything."

"I know more than you might think," Lisa shot back with just as much venom. "And I think it's time you realized that you can't use it as an excuse to not feel for the rest of your life."

"It's not an excuse!" Jackson said defensively. Lisa turned to glare at him as someone shouted in pain outside, assumedly shot.

"It's an excuse," Lisa replied viciously. "Your whole life is an excuse for how you are, Jackson. If you don't want to be who you are, then change!"

"I can't change!" Jackson growled, the passion building in his voice. "This is who I am, Leese, take it or leave it."

"You might be able to fool everyone else with that bullshit, Jack, but you're not fooling me," Lisa replied. "If you want to punish yourself for what you've done, go ahead. But just don't get me mixed up in it first."

"Punish myself?" Jackson said with a humorless, incredulous laugh. "What are you talking…?"

Lisa turned around to face him completely, the look in her eyes freezing Jackson before he could get another word out.

"Don't try to hide it, Jack. I know you're not just the job. You were never just the job. It just took me a while to see that. You're good at hiding your emotions, but I've become better at reading them. You hate this. You hate what you do, and what you've done in the past. You hate it so you try to close off everything." A stray bullet struck the door outside. Jackson flinched. "You try to pretend that you don't care because caring would mean giving you something to live for, something to be happy about. So you're denying everything you want because you just can't stand to see yourself happy."

Jackson didn't say anything for a long moment. He just sat there and stared at her and wondered how the hell she got so intuitive. His closest friends had never come to the conclusion that the simple fact of the matter was that Jackson Rippner didn't feel anything because Jackson Rippner didn't think he deserved to feel anything. They just thought he was detached, emotionally, from everything and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Only this little, beautiful woman had realized what it was that was making him deny everything he wanted in life.

He stared at her for so long a moment that Lisa would have thought all time was standing still if it weren't for the gunshots outside. The thought barely crossed her mind that the gunshots were something to worry about. At the moment, there were far more pressing matters to be attended to. Far more pressing in her opinion, anyway. Jackson took his sweet time in answering, of course, and when he did, he tensed up, clearing his throat to speak.

"Now why would I hate what I've done?" he asked in a hoarse voice. Lisa looked at him, and he could see the disappointment reflected in her eyes. She didn't say anything more to him. She just turned around and sat with her back to the desk, staring at the wall straight ahead. Jackson knew from the set of her shoulders that she was crying. Every bit of him wanted to reach out and comfort her, but at the same time, he was loath to do it. Comforting her meant getting in deeper than he already was, and he couldn't afford to get any more attached. Not only were attachments dangerous in Jackson's line of business, but it would only lead to heartache on both sides.

Instead, he just sat there and listened to the gunfight raging outside, and thought. He was just wondering about what he was supposed to do to get out alive when Lisa spoke.

"Why'd you kiss me?" she asked in a quiet voice that he could barely hear over the noise of the guns. "If you don't care. Why'd you kiss me like you did?" She glanced at him. "You wanted that kiss. That wasn't just something to torture me with. You wanted it."

"I know," Jackson said in a voice equally as quiet. He was admittedly slightly embarrassed about the whole thing. He wasn't used to showing this much emotion, and years in the Organization had taught him to shun those feelings. Having Lisa see him so open and vulnerable just felt wrong. He was almost disgusted that it had gone as far as it had; this closedness. He couldn't even put words together in his own mind for how he felt.

He could feel the frustration building inside of him as he thought of how he would have never been like he was if only he hadn't taken that one job. That one fucking job, ten years before, had changed his entire life forever, and it changed him and everything he used to stand for. Every little thing that his mother had ever taught him about compassion and mercy and love had receded to the back of his mind, rusty from lack of use and years of going against everything she had stood for. In that moment, Jackson wanted nothing more than to be in his mother's arms again, eight years old and sensitive to everything around him. It was better than what he was; a man in his late twenties who couldn't feel anything for anybody.

Feeling overwhelmed with everything, he reached out and pulled Lisa into his arms, holding him against her. He felt her body shaking and he knew she was crying, so he held her tightly and allowed her to cry, fighting everything that wanted to break out within him and holding his tears at bay. He couldn't cry. He couldn't cry.

With Lisa in his arms, he closed his eyes and tried to allow any emotions to wash over him, but nothing happened. He felt the frustration rising faster. Why couldn't he just feel something?

He didn't have long to worry about feeling anything, because suddenly there was a barrage of gunshots against the door, and the door exploded open, slamming against the wall. Lisa stiffened in Jackson's arms and looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear. Jackson pressed a finger to his lips. Lisa nodded slowly, squeezing her eyes shut and drawing her mouth into a thin line as she fought the urge to scream. Heavy boots could be heard walking into the small room, but they stopped in the doorway. They couldn't see the pair huddled by the desk from where they stood.

"There's no one here," a heavy voice said. Jackson blinked in surprise. The voice was talking through a voice distorter. That was definitely not the police.

"Let's go," another voice, equally as deep, intoned, and the heavy footsteps receded down the hallway. Moments later, there was a shout, and some rapid gunfire, then silence. Lisa looked up at Jackson again, her eyes even wider than before.

"What's going on?" she asked fearfully.

"I don't know," Jackson said, shaking his head. "It sounds like a revolt."

"A revolt?" Lisa asked with fear.

"Loyalists to Hillman probably don't agree that Derrick should be the new head of the Organization," Jackson said. "They're trying to take over. My guess, anyway."

Lisa nodded. It made sense. She peered around the side of the desk and saw that the door was hanging off its hinges, wide open.

"We should go," she whispered. "The door."

Jackson peered around the side of the desk again and nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said. "Leese, you realize this is going to be dangerous."

"More dangerous than sitting here and waiting for either side to win?" Lisa asked, arching an eyebrow. Jackson nodded begrudgingly.

"No," he admitted. "Okay. Follow me and be as quiet as you can be."

Lisa nodded, and Jackson slowly eased himself to his feet. The pain from his interrogation was really starting to set in, but he would never let Lisa see that. Besides, he had to get Lisa out of there. He couldn't let her become another Sophie.

He made his way to the door, then paused.

"Look to the right," he told her. "At the same time as I look to the left."

"Okay," Lisa said. They both positioned themselves in the doorway, and Jackson peered to the left while Lisa looked to the right. There was no one in the little hallway, so they stepped out.

Down the hallway a little ways, there were two dead men. Jackson moved towards them purposefully.

"Do you know them?" Lisa asked as he looked down at them.

"Yes," Jackson said. He turned and looked at Lisa. "Doesn't mean I liked them, though."

Lisa smiled slightly. She'd been expecting him to say something along those lines. Jackson bent down and picked up the gun that one of the men was clutching in his hand. He tossed it to Lisa, and she caught it gracefully, looking sickened.

"Again?" she asked, images of the last man she shot flashing through her mind.

"We gotta get out of here, Leese," Jackson said with the smallest amount of sympathy in his voice.

"Yeah," Lisa said under her breath. She made sure the gun was ready to fire and tried not to think about the fact that there was blood covering it. Jackson glanced at her, and she could have sworn there was something like pride in his gaze. As soon as he noticed her looking at him, however, he looked away quickly. She sighed and followed him as he started walking down the hallway wordlessly, holding a gun in his hands.

"You sure you're not going to end up shooting me with that?" she whispered to him mockingly.

"I'm not that bad a shot," Jackson replied indignantly. They turned the corner, glancing around like frightened rabbits before scurrying across the hall and dashing into the staircase. Once on the stairs, Jackson held up a hand, and they listened. Lisa recognized that they were on the second floor landing from their first failed attempt at escape.

There was silence on the stairs. Somewhere else in the building, there was a gunshot, then a scream, and then silence. Jackson glanced at Lisa and then started down the stairs. She followed wordlessly, feeling sick.

* * *

"Move your ass, Vincent!" Jimmy yelled. "Jackie's in trouble."

Vincent groaned and pulled the covers off of his bed.

"How the fuck'd you get in here?" he mumbled, his head lolling to one side sleepily.

"Did you not hear me, you fucking ass? Jackie's in trouble! Get the fuck up!"

Vincent's eyes opened wide.

"What?" he asked, suddenly awake.

"Get the fuck up!" Jimmy roared. "We gotta go to Johnson Athletic."

Vincent's skin grew about three shades lighter.

"Johnson Athletic?" he asked, sounding like he was going to be sick. "Shit Jimmy, please tell me Jackie's not there."

"He's there," Jimmy said bluntly. "And if we wanna get him the fuck outta there, we gotta leave now."

"Shit…yeah," Vincent said slowly, looking and sounding dazed. He got out of bed, already dressed, looking around for his shoes.

"Meet me in my office," Jimmy said impatiently, turning and walking out of the room. He walked down the short hallway to his living quarters and opened the door.

"We don't know where he was," Felicia's voice was saying in the bedroom. "We're going to find him though, don't worry."

"The kid awake?" Jimmy asked, walking into the bedroom quickly. Felicia was sitting on the bed beside Harrison, who was awake and looking around wildly.

"Where am I?" Harrison asked, looking frightened. When he saw Jimmy, his face registered recognition. "You're Jackson's friend."

"Yeah, kid," Jimmy said, walking over to the bedside. "How you feeling?"

"Not so good," Harrison admitted. "I don't know where the hell I am…what happened…"

"You got shot," Jimmy said. "And you're in my house."

"Okay," Harrison said, nodding slowly. "Do you have a phone I could use?"

"Get the kid a phone," Jimmy said absently to Felicia. She nodded and walked into the other room to get Jimmy's. Jimmy stared down at Harrison for a long moment. "You a friend of Jackson?"

"I guess you could say that," Harrison said uncomfortably, avoiding Jimmy's gaze. "I don't know him all that well…I've only worked with him on two jobs now."

"Well, tell you what, I'm gonna let you stay here for a while. Now, I don't usually do shit like this, so this is a big deal. I'm gonna let you stay here and get better, all right?"

"Okay," Harrison said, looking confused.

"Good." Jimmy said, turning and walking out of the room, just as Felicia was walking into the room. "Felicia, get the kid whatever he needs, all right?"

"Of course," Felicia said, as if it were obvious. Jimmy nodded and started walking out of the room, then stopped and turned back.

"And Felicia," he said reluctantly. Felicia turned in the act of handing Harrison the phone, and Jimmy looked at the ground with a sigh. "Put out an alert. Everyone back here. All jobs are cancelled."

Felicia stared at him for a moment, and then she nodded slowly. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew it had to be big if everything was cancelled. She turned back to Harrison and started talking to him in a low voice. Jimmy sighed and walked out of the room, shoving his hands into his pockets.

* * *

Lisa and Jackson snuck along the hallway carefully, making absolutely no noise. Distant gunshots could be heard throughout the building, but nothing near them. All the action seemed to be concentrated in the upper floors. Still, neither of them was taking any chances. They hadn't spoken a word to each other the entire time.

They made it to the same side door where they had gotten caught last time. There were still bloodstains on the floor. Jackson made a disgusted face. Lisa sighed. She was getting used to the disgusting habits of these people.

Jackson slowly walked over to the door and eased it open. At once, thousands of outside sounds reached Lisa's ear; a car driving by on the road, birds whistling in the trees, the wind blowing through the long grass outside…everything mixed together creating a symphony of sounds that Lisa had been certain she would never hear again. She closed her eyes and let them wash over her for a moment before she followed Jackson out the door.

It was only when the door had closed behind them that they realized that they were free. Both of them simultaneously drew large gulping breaths of fresh air and thought to themselves that freedom had never seemed so sweet.

Their little moment of reflection was short lived, however. Both of them knew that they weren't out of danger just yet. They jogged around the side of the building to where the cars were parked.

"I'm assuming you know how to hotwire a car," Lisa said. Jackson nodded, glancing around for a moment before settling on a sports car that looked like it could drive relatively fast. He tried the door, but that did nothing, so he slammed the butt of his gun into the back left window. It shattered easily, and he reached in and unlocked the doors. Lisa ran to the other side and got in as Jackson hotwired the car within moments.

"A record," he remarked, sounding very unsurprised. Lisa smiled nervously and glanced at the building. There was a gunshot, and someone shot out one of the front windows of the building. "Shit!" Jackson exclaimed, putting the car into reverse and skillfully maneuvering out of the parking space. The front door opened, and a man stood there, raising his gun to fire at them. "Down!" Jackson yelled, peeling out of the parking lot just as the man fired. The bullet struck the side of the car, but didn't harm either of them. The man never got another shot off, because someone else shot him from behind.

"It's official," Lisa said bitterly. "The world's gone to hell."

"The world's been in hell for a while now," Jackson said wryly. "The public just didn't really know it."

Lisa looked at Jackson and finally allowed herself to smile as they sped off down the road.

"What now?" she asked, knowing inwardly that the day was far from over, and there were probably a thousand other things she had to do before she could get to her father.

"We have to get to Jimmy's," Jackson said. "Hopefully before Ben can."

"Isn't Ben back there?" Lisa asked, pointing back to the building. Jackson shook his head.

"I don't know," he said. "But we're about to find out."


	17. Eyes that See Into Infinity

Ookay, so this chapter's a little shorter, because I wanted to end it where it ended (don't peek or you'll ruin it for yourself!) but I'm sure you won't be disappointed. I hope, anyway.

I'm STILL sick. Is that normal? Because seriously, I've been sick for like 2 weeks now! I'm not even kidding! Yesterday was probably the sickest I've ever felt in my life, until my darling friend/crushity came over and made me feel tons and tons better. But that tons and tons better only lasted until like an hour after he left, and now I feel like shit again. Oh well, that's the way it goes I suppose, hahaha.

Thanks to all the reviewers! Please review again and I will love you even MORE!

**Gladys Bagg:** Hehehe, well that's the idea:D I'm glad you like it! Thanks for reviewing!

**Joelle: **Wow, I'm glad you like it so much! That review made me smile with happiness! I'm glad you think I'm in character, because keeping things in character is hard, hahaha. Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

Chapter 17: Eyes That See Into Infinity

I will disappear  
I told you once and I'll say it again  
I want my message read clear  
I'll show you the way, the way I'm going

So I run, hide and tell myself  
I'll start again with a brand new name  
And **eyes that see into infinity**

30 Seconds to Mars  
Capricorn (A Brand New Name)

* * *

Harrison was somewhere between reality and dreamland when he heard shouts outside in the hallway. Groggily, he tried to shake himself awake, but like most sleepers, he couldn't quite get there right away. A scream pierced through the air, and he murmured under his breath, struggling to open his heavy eyelids. The pain medication he was on was making it extremely difficult for him to move, but he forced himself to sit up and look at the clock. It was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon.

"A party, this early?" he asked himself skeptically. He had heard about the wild parties in Jimmy's complex from Jackson, but he hadn't thought they'd be that wild.

Of course, it only took a moment or two before Harrison realized that the screams and shouts were not the screams and shouts of an excited dance crowd. They were from people in a panic.

Frowning, Harrison struggled to stand, but his leg prevented him from doing so, and he nearly crumpled to the ground before righting himself and gripping the table beside the bed with clenched teeth. It hurt to stand on his leg, even for just a moment, but he managed to make his way to the phone, which was lying on a chair across the room. He picked it up and dialed the number that Felicia had left beside it; the number of her cell phone. He waited for it to ring a while, but no one answered. He frowned and put the phone down, looking around the room helplessly.

He was just contemplating trying to call Jackson when a gunshot rang out, and someone screamed right outside the door. He jumped with surprise and froze, barely breathing as he listened to heavy booted footsteps walk slowly ever closer to the door that led to Jimmy's office. He could just barely see the door from where he was half-standing, and he saw that a dark shadow passed underneath it.

"That's Jimmy's place," a deep voice said, scrambled by a voice distorter.

"He's looking for Jackson," another voice replied. "He ain't gonna be in there."

"You wanna make sure?" the first person asked.

"We ain't got time, come on," the other one said, and then the shadow was gone, and the heavy footsteps receded down the hallway.

Harrison breathed out a heavy sigh of relief and let his head rest back against the chair from where he had gotten the phone. He didn't know what was going on, but for the moment he was going to just sit there and wait for someone to help him.

Before he had even known what happened, his eyes were sliding closed, the medication overpowering him and knocking him out within moments as the screams continued outside.

* * *

Jackson screeched to a halt in the parking lot of the building next to Jimmy's complex.

"We want to be safe," he explained to Lisa, though she hadn't asked and was pretty sure that she knew what he was doing. She nodded anyway, just because she was too tired and drained to say any of that.

"Is Ben in there?" she asked.

"I don't know," Jackson replied. "But I'm gonna find out."

"You're going to find out?" Lisa asked indignantly. "Don't think you can just leave me behind, Jackson."

"You're going to the police," Jackson said with conviction. "Your father will be worried about you, and I can't put you in anymore danger than I already have."

"You're not putting me in anything," Lisa said defiantly. "I'm doing this for myself."

Jackson sighed.

"Leese," he said carefully. "I need you to stay out here. If you're in there, I'm going to be distracted with protecting you. I can't have that happen."

"Then just don't pay any attention to me," Lisa said, picking up her gun and glancing at him emotionlessly before opening the door and stepping out into the parking lot. Jackson sighed and rolled his eyes, stepping out as well.

"I'm not going to be able to focus," he said accusingly.

"That's just too bad," Lisa replied harshly, slamming the car door. "Now let's go. We don't have time to be standing around."

She started walking off towards the complex purposefully.

"Leese!" Jackson exclaimed, frustrated. "Just, please, wait in the car."  
Lisa didn't respond. She just continued walking without any indication that she had heard him. He sighed and walked quickly after her.

"I'm not going back, Jackson," Lisa said as he caught up with her. They walked through the small group of trees separating the other lot from the complex.

"Lisa, there's a chance that neither of us are going to make it out of there," Jackson said urgently. "For your father's sake…"

Lisa scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Please," she said. "You don't care about my father any more than you care about me. Just don't pay attention to me and let me do this for myself, okay?"

Both of them knew that she was doing this more to make a point than anything else, and neither was really sure what point she was trying to make. But they knew that she wasn't going to back down until she got what she wanted, and what she wanted was to be able to go into the building and help Jackson and the place where he grew up. Jackson knew that though she would never admit it, she was doing it for him.

"Okay," he said, his tone one of defeat. Lisa didn't seem surprised or relieved, or anything. She just nodded and kept walking, her eyes glinting with purpose.

They made their way to the side of the building, and stuck tight to it until they reached a side entrance. Peering inside, they discovered that there was no one in the small room.

"I'm assuming you know a way in that doesn't involve the front gate or the garage gate," Lisa whispered to him.

"Naturally," Jackson replied, and he walked over to one of the floor tiles, pulling it up and gesturing to Lisa. She looked down. It was hollowed out, and there was a drop of about three feet before another level of tiles. She grabbed onto the edge of the tiles and lowered herself down as gracefully as she could manage, which was actually pretty graceful. Jackson followed her, replacing the tile as he did so. They crouched down in the small space that they had, and walked over to the far corner, where there was another tile that came up. This one pulled up to reveal a ladder that went down into darkness.

"Who came up with this?" Lisa asked, rolling her eyes. "This is like something out of an Indiana Jones movie."

"I know," Jackson said with a small smirk. "That's what we used to say."

Lisa climbed down the ladder stealthily, and reached the bottom. She found herself in a dark, shadowy room.

"Where are we?" she asked Jackson as soon as he had replaced the tile and followed her down.

"We're above the complex now," Jackson replied. "If I remember correctly, we're currently over Jimmy's apartments."

A small smile appeared on Lisa's face as she thought of young Jackson and Vincent creeping along about Jimmy's apartments, playing tricks by the light of a flashlight. Jackson saw the smile and knew what it was for, smirking at her.

"You have no idea," he said. "I'll tell you all about my favorite prank when we get out of here."

"Deal," Lisa said, though she didn't sound too convinced. Jackson knew that she probably didn't expect them to get out of there; at least not alive. He sighed and walked slowly and carefully over to the corner, where there was a small grate. Through the grate wafted sounds of shouting and a few screams.

"Shit!" Jackson exclaimed. "They got in. Those sons of bitches! I don't know how they did it, but they got in!"

Jackson bent down and grabbed the vent, pulling it up easily. It was a long drop from the ceiling to Jimmy's room, but Lisa lowered herself down first to lessen the distance. Then, she dropped onto the softly carpeted floor.

Looking around, she saw that there was no one in the room. Still, she hefted her gun and walked slowly around the office, looking for a sign of movement. When she didn't see any, she walked slowly into the bedroom.

Crumpled by the foot of the bed, pale and unmoving, was Harrison. Lisa gasped and dropped her gun, rushing to his side and falling to her knees beside him, looking for any signs of blood. When she saw with relief that he was only sleeping, she pushed the hair out of his face and felt at his forehead. He was burning up. She frowned, thinking back to everything she knew about medicine (which, admittedly, wasn't much) She did know that a fever wasn't a good thing, especially when he had such a grievous wound. She turned and looked back out at the office, where Jackson was just painfully dropping himself to the ground. He had been shot in nearly the same place as Harrison, and had been extensively tortured, and he was still up and running about with a gun. She wondered what he had been through before that had caused him to build up such immunity to the pain.

Getting to her feet hurriedly, Lisa walked out of the bedroom with her gun clutched in her hands.

"Harrison's in there," she said, biting her lip. Jackson looked at her, his eyes silently asking the question with a look of dread. "He's alive, but I think he has a fever."

"Shit," Jackson muttered, ignoring the screams that were coming from outside and jogging into Jimmy's bedroom. He knelt beside Harrison and felt at his forehead, frowning. "We need to get him help."

"How?" Lisa asked. "We're not going to get him back up that way."

"I know we're not," Jackson said. "We're just going to have to kill these bastards quickly then." He sighed and turned to face her. "I need you to stay here and guard him," he said. "But not only him, that computer needs guarding. Jimmy keeps everything on that computer. If they got to the computer, they'd have his entire life in their hands, and they'd be able to do whatever they wanted with this place.

"We should hide it," Lisa said, looking skeptically at the tiny laptop. Jackson shook his head.

"You have to stay here, Leese," he said with completely fake reluctance. Lisa glared at him. "Sorry. Just make sure Harrison's okay."

Lisa nodded moodily. Jackson turned to walk away, but then turned back and looked at her for a long moment, biting his lip. Then, he walked forward, and held out his hand. She stared at it for a moment, then took it. He pulled her forward and kissed her, this time gently and more tender than the first few. Lisa looked at him in surprise, then he smiled sadly and turned and walked away. Lisa's hands curled into frightened fists as she realized why he had just done that. He wasn't expecting to make it back. He thought he was going to die out there.

"Be careful," she said gently. He glanced at her and nodded.

"I will," he said, and then he turned away.

He walked over to the door with his gun and a knife acquired from a decorative stand in the office, and without even looking at Lisa, he was gone. He just opened it and walked out, closing it behind him and leaving Lisa alone with the unconscious form of Harrison.

* * *

Due to the fact that they were infinitely closer to Johnson Athletic than Brian and Joe, Vincent and Jimmy, along with their team, were the ones who made it to the building first. They parked in the parking lot casually, guns in hand as they strolled towards the front doors as if they owned the place.

"Look for the kids," Jimmy said, nodding to two people and gesturing down a hallway. They nodded and headed down that way. He gestured down another hallway, and two more men obediently walked in that direction. After directing a few more groups on where to go, Jimmy and Vincent started down the center hallway with Frank and a man named Johnny.

"Backup should be here in ten minutes," Vincent said nervously. "If even. I think we should wait for them."

"We ain't waiting for shit," Jimmy muttered darkly as he stormed down the hallway, a gun held in his little hands. Vincent, watching him, thought he looked like a nightmarish dwarf out of some little kid's bad dream. He almost chuckled to himself before he remembered exactly what they were doing. His hands tightened on his gun, and he realized that Jimmy was right. They couldn't wait. Not while Jackson was in danger.

They walked down the hallway slowly, going into closets and rooms on the side but coming up with nothing. The entire first floor appeared to be empty. They met up with the other groups soon enough, and decided that there was no one there. Jimmy ordered the men up the three staircases in the building, while he, Vincent, Frank, and Johnny remained on the bottom floor so Jimmy could attempt to call Brian.

"You think this is a trap?" Vincent asked. He wasn't the kind of person who got nervous in situations like that easily, but he had to admit that the stark white walls and the echoing silence was getting to him a little bit.

"I don't know," Jimmy muttered. "They can't have known we were coming."

Vincent made a noise of agreement. Jimmy sighed and hung up his phone.

"The bastard's not answering," he said. "Probably almost here."

Vincent nodded, though he could detect the uncertainty in his mentor's voice and knew that Jimmy was questioning if Brian was in danger himself. He sighed and gripped his gun tighter again.

"Well," he muttered. "Let's go."

"Let's go," Jimmy agreed. Vincent pushed open the door to the staircase and at once was thrown into a world of chaos.

* * *

"Goddammit!" Brian yelled, throwing his phone in the back seat.

"What?" Joe asked, slightly frightened by Brian's odd behavior.

"Cell phone's out of batteries," Brian growled angrily. "And Jimmy just tried to fucking call me."

"Is he there?" Joe asked, eyes widening.

"It's probable," Brian replied. "His complex isn't that far away."

"You could use my cell phone," Joe said, holding it out with an eager expression. Brian shook his head as he once again sped up.

"I can't call him," he said. "If he's in there, and they're trying to be quiet, and he forgot to put the phone on silent…I can't risk it."

Joe looked dejected for a moment, and slid his cell phone back into his pocket. Brian sighed slightly. He knew that Joe just wanted to help his daughter, and it wasn't his fault that he was slightly overbearing at times. It was just sometimes Brian really wished that the guy would just stop insisting on going everywhere, but at the same time, he knew he couldn't refuse him. He knew what it was like to have a child in danger, and he knew what it was like to be completely unable to help his child.

Brian ran a hand through his short hair and exhaled heavily, taking a screeching turn and almost driving straight off the road but managing to keep it together somehow. Joe glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, an eyebrow quirked. Brian smirked slightly, though Joe didn't find it all that amusing.

"We're going to help your daughter," Brian said at last. "We're going to save her."

"I hope so," Joe said shortly. "But I can't believe that until I have her back here in my arms."

"I know," Brian said, thinking that if he were in Joe's situation, that was exactly what he would have said. "But she's going to be soon enough. Don't worry."

"Don't worry," Joe laughed sarcastically. Brian nodded begrudgingly. That probably hadn't been the best thing to say.

"I think there are some things you should understand before we get there," Brian said slowly. "First of all, you're not coming into the building. You're going to be outside with an armed guard, waiting in one of the bulletproof cars. You cannot get inside until we're sure all of the hostiles are apprehended. Is that clear?"

"That's clear," Joe muttered angrily.

"Another thing is that though I know you're angry with Jackson Rippner at the moment, I'd like you to please try to keep your feelings under control. If what I understand of the situation is correct, your daughter will probably not press charges against him, and I urge you not to either. In fact, he may be able to escape this one without getting caught. I must warn you that we're not going to be very thorough in our search for him. Do you understand why?"

"Is it for reasons other than your personal ones?" Joe asked bitterly, clearly not happy with this second agreement.

"Yes," Brian said shortly. "Mr. Reisert, I don't expect you to be able to see this from my point of view, nor do I expect that you'll try very hard. But you may want to consider your daughter's personal views before you attack mine."

Joe was silent after that, clearly very pissed off but lacking the words to say. Brian knew that that had been the way to get him. Joe wouldn't be doing anything against Jackson Rippner for a while. At least, Brian thought wryly, not where things presently stood. He knew there were at least a hundred things that could change before the day was over. He also knew that most of them weren't good ones.

"Are we almost there?" Joe asked, sounding like a small child not for the first time that day.

"Yes," Brian replied shortly, and from then on they drove in silence.

* * *

Jackson ducked behind a wall as bullets flew at him from every direction. One clipped his arm, and he hissed in pain, firing and missing. He swore under his breath and suddenly his wounded leg gave out. He hit the ground hard, dropping his gun. It skittered down the hallway a little ways, landing at the feet of Scarlett Carver. She bent down slowly and picked it up, looking at Jackson stonily.

Jackson stared back, trying to struggle to his feet and finally giving up on it as a futile attempt. Scarlett took the gun and walked up to Jackson.

"You dropped this," she said in her quiet voice, tilting her head to one side as she examined him.

"They're coming," Jackson said breathily. Scarlett nodded. She looked like she was going to cry for a moment, then she put her hand to her forehead. Jackson noticed that there was blood on her hands and the front of her shirt. "What happened?"

Scarlett looked down at her red-stained clothes and her shoulders slumped a little.

"Felicia's dead," she said, her voice cracking a little. "I was trying to get her out of here, and I thought they hadn't gotten to the garage yet, but…" she trailed off, her hands falling limply to her side.

"Dead?" Jackson asked incredulously. Scarlett couldn't do anything except nod. Jackson felt a lump forming in his throat as he thought about how Lisa and Felicia had sat at their table in the bar and had laughed and joked together.

"She told me to…to tell Lisa something," Scarlett whispered, her voice choking slightly. "She told me to tell her 'it's okay to feel'. Could you give her that message for me?"

"Scarlett, don't," Jackson said with sudden realization.

"Tell Vincent that I've always loved him," Scarlett whispered, and then she cocked the gun and walked out into the open.

Jackson never found out what happened, but there was a barrage of gunshots, and after what seemed like hours, there was silence. Jackson put his head in his hands and waited for the inevitable. But the inevitable never came, because moments later, Jackson heard a voice shouting that the area was all clear, and the men who had been shooting at him left.

Managing to belly-crawl out into the open, Jackson saw Scarlett's bullet-riddled body lying haphazardly across the shining tiled floor. Her eyes were open and staring at him as the blood from her wounds oozed across the shells of the bullets and crept towards Jackson. In that moment, she looked so like his dying mother that he truly believed he was twelve years old again, staring at his mother's bloody face.

"Well, well, well," cut a voice out of the fog of Jackson's mind, snapping him back to reality. He turned his face to see Ben standing there, gun in hand. "If it isn't Jackson fucking Rippner." He grinned. "What a pleasant surprise."

* * *

Lisa glanced at the clock on the wall as it ticked along steadily. It had been ten minutes since Jackson went out into the hallway. She had heard many gunshots at first, but after a while, he had moved too far away for her to hear anything. Her hands, slippery with sweat from her tight grip on the gun, were shaking outrageously. Out of anything, she hated the apprehension the most. She didn't know what was going on out there, and she didn't know if Jackson was hurt, if he was killed, if anything had happened to him…nothing.

Suddenly, she heard Harrison move behind her. She whirled around to face him, sighing in relief when she saw that his eyes were open and he was looking at her as if he was seeing a ghost.

"Lisa," he gasped. "You're alive!"

"Yes," Lisa said shortly. "Now come on, get up."

Harrison struggled to his feet, hissing in pain when he stepped on his injured leg. Lisa put an arm around his waist to support him, and she helped him get from his position on the floor onto the bed. He lay down with a groan.

"What's happening?" he asked. "I heard gunshots…?"

"Nothing to worry yourself over," Lisa said quietly, trying to sound somewhat soothing in her nervousness. "Now you stay here. If you need anything, just call for me, but try to keep it quiet."

Harrison nodded and settled back against the pillows, looking nervous. Lisa walked into Jimmy's office and picked up the small laptop, looking for a good place to hide it before deciding that the ceiling was as good a place as any. She stood on the office chair unsteadily and stashed it up in the grate, reminding herself that it was there so she didn't forget to put it back if they ever got out.

That done, Lisa sat down in the chair and put her head in her hands, running her fingers through her hair. There was nothing but silence out in the complex, and she knew what she was going to do before she even decided to herself that she was going to do it.

She got to her feet and, without telling Harrison, walked purposefully towards the door, throwing it open and stepping out into the complex.

* * *

The butt of a gun hit Vincent squarely in the chest, and he flew backwards, sliding across the tile floor as the gunman opened fire, hitting Frank in the arm before Jimmy shot him in the face. Another man was right behind him, and he tried to shoot Johnny but missed. Frank got him in the chest, and Jimmy finished him off with a nice shot to the head. They started charging up the stairs, shooting at the men gathered there, but before Vincent could run after them, the man hiding behind the door slammed it and locked it. Vincent's futile pounding and shouts could be heard over the roar of the gunshots as the men all opened fire at once. Frank went down, but Johnny and Jimmy miraculously managed to escape harm by ducking behind the railing and shooting upwards, killing the men on the stairs above them.

Finally, there was silence.

"They gone?" Johnny asked in a hoarse voice.

"Sounds like it," Jimmy said, though he didn't sound too sure of himself. They listened for another long minute and then rose to their feet to see if they were alone. A bullet hit Johnny squarely in the chest, and Jimmy whirled to shoot the man before he saw that it was Derrick, and he had Vincent with a gun to his head.

"Put the gun down, Paton," Derrick said in a dark voice. Jimmy swore and threw the gun to the floor without hesitation. "Too easy. You think too much of others, my friend."

"I ain't your friend, asshole, so don't go calling me one," Jimmy retorted, deciding that if he was going to go out, at least he was going to go out with a fight. Vincent didn't seem to think too highly of this idea, as it made Derrick tighten his hold on him.

"I think you're forgetting who's in the position of power here," Derrick said, pushing the gun deeper into Vincent's temple. Vincent winced.

"I ain't forgetting nothing," Jimmy replied flippantly. "I'm just stating the facts. You ain't my friend, and you're an asshole."

Derrick chuckled darkly.

"I've heard the stories about you, Paton, and I have to say I'm glad there's some truth to them. You're just as rowdy as I heard you were."

"Good for you," Jimmy replied, rolling his eyes. "But how about you let my friend go and you give me Jackson and Lisa before I have to push this little button."

To Derrick's surprise, Jimmy held up a remote. Derrick immediately recognized it as a remote detonator to a bomb. Vincent recognized it as a horrible bluff, and hoped desperately that Derrick wouldn't call Jimmy on it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Derrick roared.

"Threatening to blow up this fucking building," Jimmy shouted back. "Now let my fucking friend go."

Derrick got a wild look in his eye, and he pulled the gun away from Vincent's head, instead pointing it at Jimmy.

"No!" Vincent yelled, trying to get Derrick off of him, but it was too late. Derrick fired, and Jimmy fell to the ground, landing out of sight and then sliding down the stairs, coming to rest at the bottom with his eyes open.

Jimmy Paton was dead.


	18. I'm Not Running From You

Okay, so woooot I have the website done :D. It's nothing incredibly special, but as Jenna said to me last night, I worked hard on it, so be nice! The link is in my profile!

Thank you for the INSANE amount of reviews! It made me sooo happy! 19! I think that's the most I've ever gotten for a chapter! THANK YOU! Please review again :D I have over 200 reviews! YES!

**DollyMomma: **No, no, this is not the end. There's a few more chapters yet before that comes to pass! And as for what's happening at Jimmy's place…well…read on :D. Thanks for reviewing!

**Allison: **Well, you're in luck, because there's action in this chapter and there's stuff to make the fluff-loffing side happy too! Hahaha. Thanks for reviewing!

**Selena Mori:** Yep, I killed Jimmy Paton…but I'm not very proud! I liked Jimmy! And yes, Scarlett was cool: well, it had to be done. Thanks for the review!

**Joelle: **I'm glad you liked it! And yeah…there's several obstacles before they can be together, hahaha. In fact there's quite a lot! Hahaha thanks for reviewing!

**Gladys Bagg: **Well, you can stop wringing your hands, because here it is!

* * *

**Chapter 18: **I'm Not Running From You

_What if I wanted to fight?  
Beg for the rest of my life  
What would you do?  
You say you wanted more  
What are you waiting for?  
I'm not running from you._

_Come  
Break me down  
Bury me, bury me  
I am finished with you  
Look in my eyes  
You're killing me, killing me  
All I wanted was you._

_**30 Seconds to Mars  
**The Kill

* * *

_

Lisa crept down the hallway silently, looking around for any sign of life. Her gun was held in her hands, and unlike last time, she was completely prepared to do anything to get out of there alive. She would kill however many people she needed to. She had finally gotten it through her head that these people were people who would kill her without a moment's hesitation, so she had to do the job first before they could even consider it.

There was no noise in the complex, but there were a lot of bodies. Some of them were wearing black uniforms, much like a S.W.A.T. team's, and Lisa guessed that those were the men who had gone with Ben. The other bodies were wearing regular clothing, and sickeningly, Lisa recognized some faces.

She made a turn and realized that she was walking right towards Jackson's room. She stopped in front of the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. She sighed and turned back to face the hall, and thought she saw something dashing past out of the corner of her eye. She whirled to face the hallway, and raised her gun, walking slowly towards the end.

The only sound was her breathing and her deafening heartbeat in her ears as she crept slowly forward, her hands shaking and her finger ready to pull the trigger at any moment. She didn't have to wait long, because suddenly a dark figure jumped out from behind the wall, clad in the S.W.A.T. like uniform. She pulled the trigger instantly, and the bullet stuck him in the face, knocking him over, dead. She fought down the wave of nausea that threatened to rise again, as always, and she stepped over him, resisting the urge to spit down on the body. She knew it was what Jackson would have done.

She jogged down the hallway, listening for any sound of a struggle or anything that would hint to her that Jackson was alive. There was nothing. She was just about to return to Jimmy's room to see if maybe he had gone back when she heard low voices talking. Frowning with curiosity, she snuck along the wall, closer and closer to the voices.

* * *

"You bastard!" Vincent yelled, suddenly losing all control and grabbing Derrick's fat neck in his hands, using the power in them to crush the other man's windpipe. Derrick, surprised and actually looking frightened, started shooting frantically in all directions, fortunately missing Vincent. The older man struggled to breathe, but Vincent made sure that not an ounce of oxygen got through to his lungs.

Derrick started to hit Vincent with the gun in his hands, flailing his arms wildly, but Vincent was beyond caring. He felt the harsh pain of the gun on the back of his head, but he didn't even begin to realize that he was getting dizzy, or that he felt like he was losing consciousness. He just pressed down harder on Derrick's neck, his teeth bared. Derrick slowly sank to the floor, his fight weakening as he lost energy. Black spots began to swim in front of his vision, and the last thing he saw before the world went black was Vincent's eerily smiling face, hanging above him.

* * *

Brian and Joe got out of their car almost before the car actually stopped completely. All around them, other police cars pulled up, and the men jumped out, guns at the ready.

"Stay here," Brian said, pointing at Joe accusingly. He waved to the teams, and they stared running towards the building. Joe sat down in the car, putting his head in his hands and letting out a great breath.

Brian and his team entered the building to see that there were three men standing in the front hall. Two of them were wearing black and were struggling to control a third man, who was wearing jeans and a black blazer. This man had long, shaggy blonde hair and wild blue eyes, and was cursing fit to put a factory worker to shame. When the three men saw the police, the two in the black raised their weapons, but before they could even think about getting a shot off, they were blown backwards as barrages of bullets hit them at once. The blonde man fell to the ground without the support of the other men, breathing heavily. Brian noticed he was bleeding from a wound in the back of the head and deduced that he probably had a concussion.

"You, go up those stairs," Brian said, pointing to one portion of his team. He glanced at another group. "You go down that hallway. Sweep the entire place."

The men nodded and took off, leaving Brian alone with the blonde man. He stopped in front of him, holding out his hand. The man looked up at him warily for a moment before taking it.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

"Sergeant Brian Greene," Brian replied. "And you?"

"Vincent Gavery," Vincent replied. "You're Greene, then?"

"Yes," Brian said. He noticed the haunted look in Vincent's eyes, and suddenly his face fell. "We're too late, aren't we?"

"Too late? I don't even know if Jackie and Lisa are still in this fucking building," Vincent replied, rubbing a hand through his hair and then over his face. "But too late for Jimmy…yeah, I'd say you were too late."

"Where is he?" Brian asked, suddenly looking ten years older.

"The foot of the stairs, back there," Vincent said. "You make sure he gets back to us?"

"I'll make sure of it," Brian said, nodding. Vincent murmured a thanks and walked out of the building, looking back once.

"If you find Jackie, tell him I'm sorry," he said sadly. Brian nodded again, and this time when Vincent turned away, he didn't look back.

* * *

"Do you know how long I've waited for this?" Ben asked Jackson, smiling with an expression that suggested he was getting great pleasure out of being able to hold a gun on Jackson.

"Apparently pretty long," Jackson said wryly. Ben nodded, not really caring that Jackson was being sarcastic, or that he was rolling his eyes in that annoying manner he always had. It had always annoyed him before, but knowing that Jackson was soon going to be bleeding at his feet stifled that annoyance considerably.

"Since I met you," Ben answered. "You always were an insufferably arrogant bastard. Now, where's the girl?"

"You're too late," Jackson said casually. "She's dead."

Ben chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm too late?" he asked, arching his eyebrow. "You talk as if I need her for my plan. No, Rippner, open your eyes! The plan is finished! This is it. This is what we were planning all along."

"That's what this was all about?" Jackson asked incredulously. "You wanted the complex?"

"Your man, Gregory, came to us with some information," Ben said, enjoying the look of anger on Jackson's face as he said the other man's name. "He let it slip how to get past the guns at the front door. He was going to be head of security here, a position he's apparently always wanted, but never got. Too bad he's dead."

"Too bad," Jackson muttered, rolling his eyes again. Ben just smiled wider as he thought of shooting Jackson right between the eyes.

"It's also too bad about that girl there," Ben muttered, gesturing to Scarlett's body, which still lay relatively close to where Jackson sat on the ground. "Good looking girl."

"Don't talk about her," Jackson said through clenched teeth.

"Scarlett Carver," Ben said, ignoring Jackson completely. "At least, I'm pretty sure. The world's top female assassin. Just goes to show; men can beat women. Always."

Jackson's eyebrows arched as he stared at Ben. He wondered if it was really possible for a man to be so loathsome and stupid. He hadn't thought it was, but apparently…

"You realize you're not going to be able to hold this place for long, don't you?" Jackson asked with a smug grin. "Jimmy's going to regroup. You know how many assassins are overseas right now? How many are spread throughout the country? At Jimmy's call, they're all going to come back, and they're going to get this place under control again."

"Somehow, I don't see that happening," Ben said, grinning like a shark. It was clear that he had something that he wanted Jackson to hear.

"And why not?" Jackson asked, a wave of nervousness washing over him. However, he beat it down before it could show on his face, and his features remained as unreadable as ever.

"Let's just say Jimmy's going to run into some trouble at Johnson Athletic," Ben replied, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

"You bastard," Jackson hissed, his eyes narrowing at his nemesis.

"Just doing what I have to do, Jack, just like you."

Jackson glared at Ben defiantly, though inwardly he was scrambling for ideas. He had to warn Jimmy.

Suddenly, he heard the noise of a weapon being cocked, and he looked from the ground to Ben to come face to face with the barrel of a rifle.

"Once I'm through with you," Ben growled under his breath, glaring at Jackson with such hatred that Jackson was almost remotely close to being frightened. Almost. "You're going to wish you had never been born."

"Not that that's anything new," Jackson muttered. Ben didn't appear to have heard him. He just smiled.

"It's going to be fun," he said, his eyes narrowing and his grin growing. Jackson reached into his jacket and tightened his hold on the knife he had taken from Jimmy's room. "Well, fun for me. I don't know if you'll get too much enjoyment out of it."

He chuckled as if this was a very funny joke, though Jackson didn't share his amusement. He had a feeling that even if he hadn't been the one in the position of danger, he wouldn't have found it very funny. Ben needed to get new material if he was going to be anywhere near as good as Jackson was.

Ben raised his arm a bit, and Jackson saw this as the perfect opportunity. His hand tightened once again on the knife in his jacket, and he ripped it out with one deft movement, aiming for the space under Ben's arm, intending on forcing the gun away from him. However, before he could get the knife anywhere near Ben, there was a single gunshot, and then blood splurted all over him as Ben fell on top of him, screaming.

Before Jackson knew what was happening, there was another gunshot, and then plaster was falling down on him; Ben had shot at the ceiling. However, he was starting to come to his senses, clutching his now-useless arm and standing up, whirling to face whoever it was who had shot him.

Jackson was about to attack Ben with the knife when four successive gunshots rang out, and then Ben fell to the ground, his eyes open in permanent stunned disbelief. Standing behind him, breathing heavily and looking the most beautiful he had ever seen her, was Lisa.

"Lisa!" Jackson exclaimed, his breathing finally slowing. He tried to struggle to his feet, but his leg still refused to work. Fortunately, Lisa sensed that he needed help, and rushed over, helping him to his feet. "I thought I told you to stay back there."

"And I thought I told you to be careful," Lisa replied, giving him a stern look. He shrugged.

"Sometimes, things happen," he said.

"Sometimes," Lisa said in agreement. "Now, come on. Let's go. We have to warn Jimmy."

"Where's the computer?" Jackson asked.

"I stashed it in the grate," Lisa said vaguely. Jackson nodded.

"Okay," he said. "We'll go to the garage, take one of the…" Jackson stopped in mid-sentence as he set eyes on Scarlett's bloodied body and remembered her words. Lisa noticed that his eyes were resting on something just out of her line of sight, and she moved to the side a little to see behind a pile of rubble. When she saw Scarlett, she let out a little yelp of horror and took a few steps backward, staring. Jackson turned to her, obviously dreading having to say what he was going to say next. She could see it in his eyes.

"What is it?" she asked him gently.

"Felicia," Jackson said, looking pained. Lisa's eyes asked the question, wide and already filled to the brim with tears. Jackson nodded gravely, and Lisa sighed, closing her eyes and letting the tears make their way down her cheeks. Jackson gazed at her sadly as she cried softly for her friend.

"How?" Lisa asked.

"They got her and Scarlett at the garage," Jackson replied in a quiet voice. "Scarlett came out here and just walked into the open with a gun."

"Oh my God," Lisa said, choking on her words. She felt like she was going to be sick, but managed to fight it down. Jackson was looking at her sympathetically, for once not urging her to get over it or to suck it up. He seemed to understand that she needed her time for this one.

After a few minutes of trying to get her head around everything, Lisa finally nodded to Jackson, and she let him lead her down the hallway to the front gate. He deftly opened it by putting in the code, and they raced up the stairs. Suddenly, Lisa stopped.

"Wait!" she yelled. "Stop!"

Jackson stopped and looked back at her, frustration flickering over his features.

"Leese, we don't have any time!" he yelled. "We have to get back there before Jimmy and your father walk right into their trap!"

"If you go there now, they're going to catch you," Lisa said in a low, calculating voice. "They're going to arrest you."

"Lisa, I've escaped arrest before, I can do it again," Jackson said, sounding slightly annoyed.

"No," Lisa said simply, shaking her head. "You should take Harrison and you should go to one of Jimmy's other places. Felicia…Felicia mentioned that there were other complexes like this one?"

"Yeah," Jackson murmured, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. "But you can't just go there by yourself!"

Lisa held up her gun.

"Well," she said in a tone that could only be described as fiery. "I'm going. Now you take Harrison and get one of the cars in the garage to get you out of here."

Jackson arched an eyebrow at her.

"You realize I don't like being told what to do," he said in a dark tone.

"Neither do I, but I've dealt with it," Lisa spat back. She glared at him. "Go, Jackson."

Jackson sighed and looked over his shoulder back down at the destruction that was once his home. From where he was standing her could see three bodies. He couldn't see the faces but had to guess that they were probably people he had grown up with. He sighed and looked back at Lisa

"Why are you doing this?" he asked. "Are you doing this for me?"

Lisa's angry façade crumbled, and she sighed.

"Jackson," she said quietly. "I wouldn't be alive right now if it wasn't for you. I owe you this."

"You saved me from Ben back there," Jackson pointed out.

"And you saved me from everything that was thrown at me the past few days." Lisa gave him a pointed look.

Jackson sighed and decided to try a different approach.

"If you go out there alone…" he said warningly. "Anything could happen."

"And if you come with me, you're going to be arrested," Lisa said shortly. She looked at Jackson, and he could see behind the determined wall that she was trying to build that she was actually terrified. Though he wanted nothing more than to force her into agreeing that he should go with her to protect her, he knew that she needed to do this. No amount of protection would be able to make her forgive herself if he got arrested. He knew this as he looked at her, and he knew that he was going to have to go with Harrison. He was going to have to let her go.

"Okay," he murmured, still not liking the idea. "I'll go with Harrison."

"Thank you," Lisa said, her face crumbling into an expression of relief. Jackson thought for a moment that he was going to be able to control himself, but the moment she moved towards him, he had to reach out and wrap his arms around her, holding her close to him. He knew very well that once she left, he might never see her again.

"Be safe," he murmured into her hair. She nodded and smiled sadly at him. He released her reluctantly and looked down at the ground. She started to walk past him, but then she turned back, hesitating. Looking down on him from the step above him, she bent down and took his face in hers, kissing him gently but passionately. This was unlike any of those other kisses before it. This was a burning, hungry kiss that Jackson wouldn't have expected Lisa to produce. But she did produce it, and he found her fingers running through her hair as his arms encircled her waist. For a long while, they stood there, and when the kiss was over they remained in each other's arms for a long moment. Jackson saw the tears in Lisa's eyes, and he smiled sadly.

"Keep in touch," she whispered, starting to turn away again. Jackson watched her as she walked her way up the stairs, and he couldn't help but feel very sad.

"Wait," he said suddenly, before he even knew what he was doing. But as soon as he said the word, he knew what he had to do. Walking up the stairs towards her, he reached into his shirt and unclasped the necklace that he wore around his neck. Then he took her hand and placed the Saint Jerome medal into her palm gently. "This was my mother's," he said. "The saint of orphans and the abandoned." He gently brushed his lips against hers. "I haven't abandoned you."

With that, he was gone, leaving Lisa standing there on the stairs, clutching the medal in her hands and trying to hold back her tears.

* * *

"Anyone in there?"

"Nothing, Sarg."

"What about down the hallway?"

"We checked there already. No one there."

"Sir! I found something!"

Sergeant Greene turned towards where he could hear Officer Tomelson shouting eagerly to him. He and Officer O'Brien jogged down the hallway to the left, where Tomelson was standing in front of a closet. There was a man sitting inside, his head in his hands, groaning.

"Who are you?" Greene snapped.

"Johnson," the man said simply. He couldn't be much older than twenty-three, and he looked absolutely terrified.

"Do you know anything about Lisa Reisert?" Greene asked, his eyes dangerously flashing.

"She was with Jackson Rippner," Johnson replied. "And my superiors caught them and brought them to this room. They were here when Hillmen's men attacked…I don't know where they are now. They might have been taken…they might have gotten out."

"And where would they be if they were taken?" Greene asked, narrowing his eyes at the young man.

"I don't know," Johnson answered, shaking his head. "I got here too late. Some of Hillman's men got out…I don't know where they went. They could have her."

"Shit," Greene swore, slamming his hand into the door. "Dammit, get the video footage from the cameras, Tomelson. Find this one." He pointed to the camera above the door. "Look for Jackson and Lisa. Hurry!" He sighed and ran a hand over his face as Tomelson hurried off. "O'Brien, get this man into one of the cars, will you? I've gotta go tell Joe. Tell the men to sweep the rest of the building. Maybe they got moved."

O'Brien nodded and held his walkie-talkie up to his mouth, barking orders into it as Brian hurried down the hall and down the back staircase. He jogged out of the building to Joe and Officer Frenni, who was guarding the older man. When Joe saw Brian coming, he swiftly got out of the car.

"What is it?" he asked worriedly. "Did you find her? Did you find Lisa?"

"Not yet," Brian replied, sighing. "We don't know what happened. We found a man in there who says they were in a supply closet when another group attacked the building. He doesn't know what happened to them after that. They may have escaped."

"If they escaped, wouldn't they have gone to the police?" Joe asked, looking panicked. "What if they're taken again?"

"They could very well be," Brian said sighing. "But we don't know anything for sure. My men are searching the remainder of the building for them.

"Am I allowed to come in, now?" Joe asked, looking past Brian and at the building.

"Not yet," Brian said, trying to sound somewhat tolerant though he wasn't feeling very tolerant at all at the moment. "But soon."

"I…" Joe started, but the sound of a car speeding down the road towards them cut him off. They turned and looked at the red car that was barreling down the street towards them. Brian pulled his gun out of its holster, waiting. The car turned into the parking lot, not bothering to even park in a spot before screeching to a halt and turning off. The door opened, and Lisa jumped out, wearing blood-stained clothes and covered in dirt and grime.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed tearfully, running to him and throwing her arms around his neck. In his shock, Joe could do nothing but hold his daughter and try fruitlessly to keep his tears at bay.

"Lisa, oh my God," he murmured under his breath. "You're okay!"

"I'm okay," Lisa agreed, her eyes spilling over with tears, leaving tracks on her dirty face. She suddenly remembered what she was supposed to be doing. She turned to Brian. "Oh my God…Jimmy! There's a trap, you can't let him…" she broke off as she saw the devastated expression on Brian's face.

"Jimmy's…dead," Brian managed. Lisa gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

"What about Vincent?" she asked, horrified. "Vincent Gavery? Is he…?"

"He's alive," Brian said, nodding. "He left a while ago."

"Oh my God," Lisa whispered, and then she began to cry.

* * *

Lisa was taken back to the police station where she, Brian, and her father sat in Brian's office.

"I think we've pretty much gathered the entire story," Brian said to her. "I'm not really going to ask you to recount any painful details. I just want you to tell us if we're missing anyone involved."

"Okay," Lisa said, nodding.

"We have Yuri Andropov, Alexander Hillman, Anthony Meyers, and then Derrick, who's first name wasn't in our databases. They're all dead."

"Ben," Lisa said in a quiet voice. "I don't know his last name…he was the one in the video that they sent out as a distraction. He's dead, too."

"Who killed him?" Brian asked, pausing for a moment. Lisa looked at him sadly.

"He had a gun to Jackson's head," she said, sounding almost scared. "He had killed Jackson's friends. He would have killed me too."

Brian leaned back in his chair, clearly surprised. He glanced at Joe, who was looking at his daughter as if seeing her for the first time.

"How many other people did you kill?" Greene asked.

"I don't know…" Lisa murmured, closing her eyes as if it hurt her to think about it. "Anthony. I killed Anthony. And there was another man…" She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, looking sick. "I didn't want to kill any of them, but I did what I had to do to get out alive."

"I understand," Brian said, nodding. "Self-defense."

"Yeah," Lisa whispered.

"What about Jackson?" Brian asked. "Did Jackson kill anyone?"

Lisa paused for a moment, then smiled slightly.

"Not that I saw," she said. She looked at Brian as if to explain. "He's a terrible shot."

Brian chuckled slightly.

"Yeah," he said. "He is." He thought for a moment, and then grew very serious. "Is he…alive?"

"Yes," Lisa said, nodding. "But…I don't know where he is."

Her hand clasped onto her necklace tightly. Joe looked at it curiously and saw that it was something he had never seen before. Brian was looking at it too, sadness written on his features.

"You know how he got that?" he asked. Lisa looked at him with surprise, dropping the medal from her hands as if it were hot.

"He said it was his mother's," she replied. Joe looked from Brian to Lisa questioningly, clearly not sure what the hell they were talking about.

"She always wore that necklace," Brian said fondly, staring off into space. "Always." He snapped back to reality, smiling. "I gave it to her, when I first found out David abused her."

"You were the man she was planning on leaving him for," Lisa said quietly with realization. Brian sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, kid," he said. "Though I still don't know to this day if she woulda actually done it or not. She was always talking about taking Jackson and getting out of there, but at the last minute, she'd back out, telling me that she was afraid he was going to hurt me, or kill me, or hurt the kid." He sighed. "I knew the real reason, though. She still loved him, even after all he had done to her. She knew I was better for her, and she knew that I loved her more than anything in the world…but she didn't want to leave him. She couldn't."

Lisa looked at Brian sadly, thinking of how hard it must have been for him, loving someone who could never love him with her whole heart.

"But you stayed with her," she said simply. "Why?"

"Because I loved her," Brian said simply. "I loved her more than anyone. I loved Jackson, too, though he had never met me when she was alive. I only knew about him from what his mother told me."

"I'm sure you would have been a much better father," Lisa said gently, thinking to herself how amazing it was that if Angelia had run away with Brian, Jackson wouldn't have grown up to be the man he was. So many lives would have been changed. So many lives would have been spared.

"That's what Angelia said," Brian remarked sadly. He looked at Lisa seriously. "Do you know how long Angelia and I were having an affair?"

"How long?" Lisa asked uncomfortably.

"Nearly fifteen years," Brian said. "Fifteen years, can you believe that?"

Lisa could not believe that. She stared at Brian sadly.

"You really loved her, didn't you?" she asked.

"More than anything," Brian replied. He looked at Lisa pointedly again. "And I loved…I loved my son."

Lisa stared at him, her mouth opening slightly. Joe's mouth dropped open as well.

"You…" she whispered, overcome.

"I'm Jackson's father," Brian said, and suddenly Lisa noticed for the first time what an astonishing shade of blue Brian's eyes were.


	19. Tonight's the Last so Say Goodbye

Mmmm yeah, so sorry this is so late. I like to update this story and my other story at the same time, and I realized too late that my miscalculations in cutting up the episodes of that story meant that the chapter was only 4 pages long, so I had to write a buttload of more stuff, which took a long time because I've been really busy lately as it is.

I'm giving up French test study time to do this :D I know you love me.

Thanks everyone for reviewing! Please remember to review again! 23 reviews! **23**. I am in shock! Amazing!

**MadiWillow:** Hahaha nice job catching that : Yeah…the story's about to end, but I'm already getting started on a sequel! So hey, that's good! Hahaha. Thanks for reviewing!

**DollyMomma: **You shall see : Thanks for reviewing!

**Allison: **Awww I'm glad you think that : That makes me quite happy! Thanks for the review!

**Selena Mori:** hehehe yep! Plot twists are my love! Hahaha. Thanks for the review!

**Gladys Bagg:** I'm sorry I made your jaw fall off. : It's very considerate that you reviewed anyway :

**Greencup: **I'm glad you like it : Thanks for reviewing!

**Ally: **Ahhh, it's such a good movie, hahaha. I'm glad you like the story! Thanks for the review!

**ART: **Haha, yay I stunned you! I mean…that's too bad :. Of course there are more chapters…in fact, here's one right now. : I think there's one more left before the end. Not sure though. Thanks for reviewing!

**Chapter 19: **Tonight's the Last so Say Goodbye

_To buy the truth and sell a lie  
The last mistake before you die  
So don't forget to breathe tonight  
**Tonight's the last so say goodbye**  
The secret is out  
The secret is out  
The secret is out  
The secret is out_

_Goodbye._

_30 Seconds to Mars  
A Modern Myth

* * *

_

Vincent stood in the center of the complex, looking around at the carnage and destruction that had once been his home. He had no idea how he had gotten there; he didn't remember ever leaving Johnson Athletic. The last thing he remembered was choking Derrick. It was like a part of him had died on that staircase, and now he was here to start a new life.

As he began to walk, Vincent called out any name that came to mind. There had to be someone who hadn't fled, who hadn't been shot and killed. There had to be someone who could help him understand what had happened.

"Anyone?" he shouted out, his voice ragged and broken. "Jackson? Dave? Frankie? Scarlett?"

No one answered his desperate call; silence reigned. Lifeless eyes stared at him from every direction. He started walking faster and faster, trying to escape the piercing gaze of a hundred dead friends. He saw women and children, even a dog or two, all soaking in their own blood with expressions of pain and horror on their faces. He felt sick, dizzy, hot, and tired. He felt the bile rising in his throat, and he fell to his knees at long last, letting out a hoarse yell.

"Why would you do this?" he screamed to a God that he had long ago abandoned. "What did they ever do?" Curling his hands into fists, he slammed them into the tiles, hanging his head and letting the tears come freely to his eyes.

As if in answer to his desperate question, he heard a movement over to his left. Glancing in that direction, his blurred vision saw a figure standing in the doorway, leaning heavily against the frame. Slowly, he brought a trembling hand up to scrub the tears out of his vision, and was met with the sight of a bleeding and wounded Scarlett standing there, breathing heavily and staring at him.

"Scarlett," he gasped, jumping to his feet and standing in the center of the complex, staring at her with fear in his eyes.

"Vincent," Scarlett choked out, closing her red rimmed eyes. "I need help."

Her hand was clutching her side, and Vincent could see the blood oozing out of her wounds.

"What happened to you?" Vincent asked, running to her side and slipping an arm around her waist to hold her up.

"Hospital," Scarlett coughed, looking him in the eye sternly. Vincent shut up and nodded, holding her tight against his side as he led her through the dangerous hallways that he had once walked through without knowing that one day they would be littered with the bodies of his dead friends and their families. He could have never guessed that he would be in the position he was in at that moment. He could have never guessed that one day he would be walking down that hallway, passing that same staircase where he had had the most horrible experience of his life, living a moment that would totally blow that 'horrible experience' out of the water. He looked down at Scarlett, as she clung hopefully to life even though by all rights she should no longer be living it, and he realized that everything in his life had led him to that moment; saving Scarlett's life. Everything he was, and everything he had done…it all led him to where he was at that moment.

Then and there, he vowed to himself that he would save her, and when he got back to the complex, he would make it bigger and better than it had ever been when Jimmy was in charge. He would rebuild it, and he would make up for failing Jimmy. As he walked into the garage, past Felicia Carver's doe-eyed mournful gaze of death, he vowed to Jimmy and to Felicia and to whoever else lost their lives in that place that he would avenge their deaths. He would turn their names into a memory that would never, ever be forgotten.

_"Scarlett, please…don't do this."_

_"I have to Vincent," Scarlett whispered in a strangled voice. "You don't understand…I can't…"_

_"Yes you can!" Vincent exclaimed, grabbing Scarlett by the shoulders and shoving her back against the staircase roughly. She winced slightly but didn't cry out. She was the top assassin in the complex, after all. She had been pushed around by men before and learned not to show her pain. "Scarlett, you have to understand…I'll never do it again."_

_"That's what you said before!" Scarlett yelled back, pushing him off of her and glaring at him with disgust. "That's what you said last time and the time before that and the time before that…Vincent, you're never going to change, and I've realized that now."_

_"I changed!" Vincent said desperately. He looked at Scarlett with wide eyes; that same expression that he used whenever he wanted to get something. It was the expression that she could never resist. She sighed and drew in a shuddering breath. She wasn't going to give into it this time._

_"No, Vincent," she said quietly. "Vincent…you didn't change. I know exactly how this is going to work out if I give you this chance. You're going to give it a week or so, and I'm going to think you really maybe have changed this time, and then I'm going to notice that you're distant all the time…that you're confused. Then I'll know…and it'll only be a few days before I see you walking around with some blonde whore on your arm."_

_"Baby, this time is different, I promise," Vincent said, looking proud of himself, as if his promise was something that he had never broken before. ._

_"You've broken your promises in the past," Scarlett whispered, trying hard not to cry. She knew it was pathetic, but she hated to hurt him, even after all the pain he had caused her. "I'm sorry Vincent…it's over."_

_She turned and walked away from him, putting her hand to her mouth and desperately trying to keep in the sobs. She didn't know it then, but she was walking away from the love of her life. She would never again feel anything remotely like love for any other man as long as she would live, and she would always regret leaving him behind._

_He would go on to think he found love many times, but in the end he would always realize that there was no love like the love he had thrown away so carelessly. There was no love like true love, and he had lost his long ago. He would always remember her with a smile, but when he talked to her or looked at her, he would make her think that he had moved on long ago. He would make her think that he didn't love her because he thought she was happier without him. Little did he know that she was doing the same thing. She would always be doing the same thing, and as long as they both believed that the other was happy, they could never truly feel joy._

_But at that moment, Scarlett walked away from him, and he sat behind her on the stairs and felt his heart crumbling, and cut the last ties that held him to his God with a vicious strike._

_They both walked from that staircase that day never knowing that some day seven years later, he would be running down that same hallway, past that same staircase, with Scarlett by his side, fading quickly in his arms. They never guessed they could have seen so much heartache and destruction. They could have never known any of it would have come to pass, and when the moment arrived, they both would gaze at that staircase, and they would remember that fateful day when both of their hearts were shattered, and they would both move on with new resolve to make it through._

Lisa's eyes slowly cracked open the next morning to see the familiar ceiling over her old room in her father's house. How many nights had she lain awake as a teenager, looking at the same worn cracks and crying her eyes out because some boy didn't love her? How many nights had she smiled at those same stains after she had shared a kiss, or had a date, or had a good night? How many times, how many memories had she shared with that ceiling? She wished that she had been able to store those memories, so she could look at them now; all displayed out like a television screen. She wondered what she'd think of them now, now that she'd been through more than she could have ever dreamed of when she was growing up.

Sitting up slowly, she looked around the room with the air of someone who's been away for a long time and is only just coming home. In that moment, she realized that she had been wrong during those years since high school, thinking that she didn't need her father and that she could be independent and could live her life away from him as much as possible. She had thought that she was all grown up. It had taken near-death on several occasions to realize that she had been wrong. She needed her father and she needed her old room and she needed everything that she had been living without.

Smiling with content, she rolled over onto her stomach and breathed in the scent of her pillow. She had spilled gallons of tears on that pillow, and she could almost smell them as she lay there. She was amazed, thinking back, at how she had lived her life before; how she had gone on never knowing what was going to happen to her in the future. And she knew that in ten years, she would be looking back wondering how she had ever gone on without knowing everything that would have happened in those ten years. It was amazing to think about, and her head hurt contemplating where she would be in ten years.

It was slightly frightening to realize that she didn't even have an idea of where she would be. She had always liked to have her entire future planned out to a tee; that way there were no surprises. After seeing how quickly things could change, sometimes even for the better, she realized that there was no way she could be able to keep her future planned out like she wanted there to be. There was no way she could keep everything in order because sometimes the order was messed up by something. The thought scared her, but at the same time she realized that maybe it was a good thing.

"Leese?"

Surprised, Lisa turned and looked at the door, smiling with relief when she saw her father standing in the doorway with a bowl of soup in his hands. He smiled and crossed the space between them, handing her the soup with a knowing smile.

"Oodles of noodles?" Lisa asked without looking at the bowl. She closed her eyes and took a whiff, smiling.

"Of course," Joe said indignantly. "What kind of father do you think I am?"

"I was just checking," Lisa said teasingly, smiling at her father. "Thanks, daddy."

"You're welcome, darling," Joe said gently. He sighed and looked at her fondly. "I'm glad to have you back in the house."

"I'm glad to be back," Lisa said honestly, looking around at the room and sighing with contentment. "God, I missed this. Everything's so…familiar. It feels good."

Joe smiled at her sadly, looking upset for a moment, but then looking down and regaining his normal, happy façade.

"I'd bet it would," he said gently to her. He smiled painfully, and Lisa was trying to think of something to say, but he spoke before she got a chance. "Your mother's on her way up. I called her last night as soon as you got upstairs."

"Really, she's coming?" Lisa asked, smiling slightly. "I wouldn't expect her to. I'd expect her work to be too busy or…something."

"Sweetie," Joe said quickly. "She's your mother, and you've just been through a trauma. Of course she wants to be here for you."

"I know she does," Lisa said before Joe got too defensive. "I just…I don't know…I'm glad she's coming."

Joe smiled at her and nodded.

"I knew you would be," he said. Lisa looked down at the soup and gingerly took a sip, glad to find that it wasn't too hot or too cold. She smiled to herself; Joe always had been the one to go to when she wanted soup. Her mother's soup was always too hot and lacked flavor. "How you feeling?"

Lisa looked up, surprised by the question.

"Better," she said after a pause for thinking. "Not good, certainly, but better."

"Everyone was really worried about you," Joe said, smiling gently at her. "People were calling from everywhere, wanting to know if you okay. You remember Beth?"

"Beth as in my best friend from high school Beth?" Lisa asked, arching an eyebrow. "As in Beth who hasn't called me once since we graduated Beth?"

"Yeah, that Beth," Joe said with a small smile. "She called up last night right after I hung up with your mother, crying and wanting to know if you were all right and if you were hurt and all sorts of things. I could barely understand the girl."

Lisa chuckled slightly and shook her head.

"Well, at least she called," she said. "Maybe I can forgive her a little for not bothering to call me all these years."

"She was pretty upset," Joe said. "I told her you were fine and she told me to tell you that she loves you and is 'wicked wicked sorry' that she hasn't called you before now."

"That sounds exactly like her," Lisa said, marveling at her father's impression of her former best friend.

"I pride myself on my ability to do an impressive impression," Joe said with a small chuckle, obviously pleased with himself. Lisa smiled and shook her head.

"It was good," she said, assuring him.

"I'd better go downstairs and wait for your mother," Joe said, sighing. "I know how she hates it when I'm not there to meet her."

"Yeah," Lisa said. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

"Maybe you should just relax for the day," Joe said quickly. "Lie in bed for a bit."

"Dad, it's me," Lisa said with a smirk. "I don't think 'relax' is in my vocabulary."

Joe smirked; that was an understatement if he ever heard one. With a shake of his head, he took the soup bowl from her gently.

"Well, you can come down when you're ready," he said, giving up. He smiled at her. "It's good to have you back."

Before Lisa could reply, he had turned and was gone. She heard his footsteps walking down the stairs, and she closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillow, smiling to herself brightly. It felt good to be back.

Suddenly, despite her uplifted attitude and despite the fact that she was back in her home at last, with her father right downstairs and her life back in place, Lisa began to cry.

* * *

Lisa was sitting on the couch when the doorbell rang. She felt a chill run through her body quickly, and she suppressed it as soon as it arose.

"I'll get it," she said to her father quickly, who was already making his way across the living room. She pushed herself to her feet and walked slowly down the hallway that lead to the front foyer. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself and flung open the door.

"Lisa! Oh my God, my baby!"

Lisa was at once thrown into a world of feathery blonde hair and expensive perfume as her mother wrapped her strong arms around her.

"Hey, mom," Lisa said with a wry smile. She felt disappointed, and she just couldn't put a finger on why. She glanced at the open door, and she realized that she had wanted it to be Jackson standing on that doorstep.

"Lisa, baby, oh my God, are you all right?"

Before Lisa had a chance to reflect anymore on her little revelation, her mother had swept her down the hallway into the living room, plopping her down right in her father's favorite chair and smothering her in worried kisses, examining her face and her body for harm. When she saw the bandage around her arm where Lisa had been shot by Hillman, she gasped and looked up at her daughter with horror written on her face.

"What is this?" she asked.

"I got shot," Lisa said, trying hard not to smile. And she had thought her father was overprotective.

Joe leaned against the wall, smirking at Lisa. She shook her head.

"Shot?" Lisa's mother asked in a high-pitched voice. "Oh, my baby!"

"Mom, mom, it's okay!" Lisa exclaimed. "It just grazed. I'm fine."

"Marietta, trust me. She's okay," Joe said from his place against the wall. "She's been checked out by the doctors, and they said there's nothing wrong with her that a few days rest and a lot of therapy won't cure."

Lisa groaned.

"Oh God, dad, I am not getting therapy," she said firmly.

"Hey, those were the doctor's words, not mine," Joe said innocently. Lisa rolled her eyes.

"I don't need therapy," she said firmly. "I'm fine. Now that I'm back here, I'm fine."

"Just keep it in mind," Joe said pointedly, turning and walking into the kitchen. "You want coffee, Marietta?"

"Please," Marietta said absently, looking down at her daughter with her brow furrowed in worry. "Did they hurt you, Lisa?"

"No," Lisa said, shaking her head. "Mom, don't worry, I'm okay."

"Honey, you know if anything happened…you can tell me."

"Nothing happened, mom, I swear," Lisa said with a small laugh.

"Nothing happened, huh?" asked Joe's voice from the kitchen. "Why don't you tell her about that kiss." Lisa turned and glared at him over her shoulder. He shrugged and walked around the corner, handing Marietta her coffee.

"What kiss?" Marietta asked, looking at Lisa sternly.

"You don't even know what happened," Lisa said accusingly to Joe, ignoring her mother.

"I heard enough," Joe said, snorting slightly.

"Then you heard me push him away!" Lisa exclaimed.

"Who are you talking about?" Marietta demanded.

"Sweetie, kiss whoever you want…just not him," Joe said in a stern 'I'm your father, listen to me' tone that Lisa knew all too well.

"He kissed me, daddy," she said patiently, deciding not to mention any of the other kisses.

"However it went, just don't do it again."

Lisa shook her head and groaned, leaning her head back against the chair.

"You aren't going to hold that grudge against him, are you?" she asked pointedly. "It was three months ago, and he more than made up for it."

"He kidnapped you!" Joe exclaimed.

"It's his job!" Lisa shot back.

"Yeah, his job," Joe said with disdain.

Lisa was about to retort with something defending Jackson's job when she realized just what it was that she was about to do. Why should she defend Jackson's job? Hadn't she been the one firmly against it the entire time? Just because Jackson had proved to be more of a good man than she thought he had been, it didn't mean that his job was right in any way.

"Look, how about someone explains to me what's going on," Marietta said quickly, holding up her hands and displaying perfectly manicured nails. "Who kidnapped Lisa? Are you talking about last time?"

"Both times," Joe said bitterly. "He kidnapped her both times."

"Daddy!" Lisa exclaimed. "What's with the sudden animosity towards Jackson? Last time I checked, you were pretty grateful to him for saving my life."

"I am grateful," Joe said slowly. "I just don't want him touching my daughter."

"He touched you?" Marietta asked, her eyes narrowing in anger. Lisa looked around and groaned.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "Yes, mom, he kissed me. But he didn't kidnap me. He was trying to protect me."

"Is this the bastard from that flight?" she asked Joe. He nodded wordlessly. "Oh my God, he did it again? Oh, Lisa!"

"Don't look at me like that!" Lisa exclaimed. "Mom! He's not a bad guy."

"Oh, right, he tries to kill your father, you, and the director of whatever that Keefe man was, and he's not a bad guy?"

"Sometimes things are a little more complicated than black and white," Lisa said under her breath.

"No, sweetie, not in this case," Marietta said stubbornly. Lisa looked down at the ground, fully realizing that before she had met Jimmy and Harrison and everyone that she had met this time, she would have been saying the exact same things as her mother was saying. She suddenly felt almost lucky to have gone through what she had been through. Rather than something to look back on as a bad experience, she looked back on it as something that really wasn't as bad as it first seemed. It had taught her a lot about people that she hadn't been willing to accept before.

"I know it's hard for you to realize," she found herself saying. "But sometimes, mom, yeah, people are a little different than black and white. Jackson Rippner could very well be the nicest man I've ever met. Just because he has a…an…unconventional job, it doesn't mean he's not a good person. He risked everything to protect me. I'd think you'd both be grateful for that, rather than attacking him. And yes, daddy, he kissed me, but…" she paused, not really sure if she wanted to say what she was planning on saying but deciding that it needed to be said. "But I kissed him back."

There was a stunned silence after her declaration. Her mother stared at her with an open mouth and wide eyes. Joe just looked at her silently, looking slightly sad.

"You didn't!" Marietta said at last, breaking the silence. "Oh, Lisa! Why would you do that?"

"If you had been there, in that moment, you would have done the exact same thing," Lisa said bitterly. "Trust me."

"Honey, I don't think so," Marietta said with an incredulous chuckle. "Lisa, maybe you need to get some rest."

Lisa sighed and stood up, turning and looking at her father.

"He's not a bad man," she said simply, then she turned and stormed off down the hallway and up the stairs towards her bedroom.

* * *

Back at Jimmy's complex, Jackson and Harrison stood in the center. Harrison was on crutches, and Jackson supported him as they walked through the sea of bodies.

"I'm sorry about Jimmy," Harrison said finally. Jackson sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"It's all right," he said. "Jimmy was always, part of him anyway, was always trying to die. He'd go on these suicide missions during jobs, but somehow he would always make it out. Ever since his wife died he was like that, but he never wanted to just take the quick and easy. He'd say that when the time came, he'd go out like a man. And he did. I think that's all he really wanted."

"He was a good man, wasn't he?" Harrison asked.

"I don't think a better man ever lived," Jackson said, smiling sadly. "Despite everything he did…I don't think there was a better man."

Harrison nodded sadly and looked around at everything.

"Where's Vincent?" he asked.

"He'll be here," Jackson said. "For now…I'll go get the bags."

Harrison nodded, and Jackson walked off, leaving Harrison standing in the middle of the room.

* * *

Jackson and Harrison worked for at least an hour before Vincent showed up. When he did come, he hugged Jackson tightly, and the two of them stood there for at least a minute before finally pulling away.

"I'm sorry," Jackson said brokenly.

"No, I'm sorry," Vincent said.

They both stared at each other for a long moment, and Harrison watched them and wished desperately that he could be a part of it. It was like they were part of some exclusive club that he wasn't allowed to join, because he had never been found by Jimmy when he was younger. He wished fervently then that everything had turned out differently. Maybe he could have been happy, rather than constantly miserable like he had been when he was growing up.

"How's Scarlett doing?" Jackson asked.

"Better," Vincent said, wincing slightly. "She's still unconscious, but…they say she's going to be all right."

"I didn't know she was still alive," Jackson said, sounding pained. "If I had, I would have helped her…"

"I know," Vincent said quietly. "I know you would have. There was nothing you could have done."

Jackson nodded sadly.

"There was nothing you could have done either," he said, and Vincent knew that he was referring to Jimmy. He nodded quietly, though inwardly he completely disagreed. There were a thousand things he could have done to keep Jimmy from dying. A thousand things, and he hadn't even done one of them. He knew that Jackson wasn't falling for his façade of believing what Jackson said, but he also knew that Jackson wouldn't press the issue, and for that he was thankful.

"Let's get going," Vincent said, bending down next to Jackson and helping him pack one of the bodies into a body bag.

"I never understood why Jimmy kept the body bags," Jackson said thoughtfully. "Remember when we were kids, we were always asking him?"

"Yeah," Vincent said sadly. "Now I guess we know why he did it."

"Yeah," Jackson said, sighing heavily. He zipped up the bag with a bitter expression.

"Not that many of ours died," Vincent said quietly. "A lot got out."

"Too many died," Jackson said robotically. Vincent nodded sadly.

"Yeah," he murmured. "One would have been too many."

"One is always too many," Jackson muttered. He sighed and looked down at the body in front of him. He had carried it into the center of the complex earlier, deciding that it needed special attention. "What am I supposed to tell Bennie?"

Vincent looked down at the woman in front of them. Felicia's skin was pale, almost blue. He wrote her name down on a piece of paper and tied it to a body bag, holding it open. Jackson smoothed back her hair gently and lifted her carefully, as if she was only sleeping, easing her into the body bag and zipping it up.

"He should be back today," Vincent whispered. "I didn't tell him over the phone…I thought you'd like to do it. You and him were always close."

"Yeah," Jackson murmured. "That makes sense."

"Okay," Vincent said with relief evident in his tone. He sighed and lifted the body bag, carrying it over to the side and pushing open one of the doors. He emerged moments later and wrote Felicia's name carefully on another piece of paper, taping it to the door. "I figure people will want to see their loved ones when they get here," he explained quietly. Jackson nodded.

"Good idea," he replied just as quietly. Harrison hobbled over on his crutches.

"I'll do that," he said in a hushed voice. "I can't do much else."

Jackson noticed that they were all talking in quiet voices, as if they thought the dead men and women all around them were just sleeping, and they were afraid to wake them. He would have smiled if he hadn't been so utterly unable to at the moment.

They worked on in a deadly still silence, none of them wanting to talk much.

"I'll be back in a minute," Jackson said suddenly, turning and abruptly walking into Jimmy's office, slamming the door behind him. Vincent stared at the closed door with a sad smirk.

"He needs his time," he said to Harrison, as if explaining, though Harrison knew why Jackson was going into the room. He knew the body had been delivered there earlier.

"Yeah," he said quietly. Vincent looked up at Harrison, examining the other man without him noticing for a long moment.

"You know…" he said after a pause. "I wanted to say thank you. You didn't know Jimmy…you didn't know any of us except Jackson. You don't have to be doing this…but you are. So…thank you."

"Jimmy took me in," Harrison said, shrugging. "He didn't know me. He didn't know anything about me, but he took me in anyway. I had to help."

"You're all right," Vincent said decisively. "At first I was a little iffy about letting you in here, you know…but I like you. After this is all over, you're welcome to stay."

"Thanks," Harrison said, smiling slightly. "My girlfriend?"

"Oh, definitely," Vincent said. "God, I wouldn't separate true love. I'm like the most romantic guy you'll ever meet."

"You?" Harrison asked doubtfully.

"Hey, don't give me that look," Vincent said with very unconvincing mock anger. "I'm a regular romantic."

"I'm sure," Harrison said dryly. Vincent chuckled, but it wasn't very convincing, and their attempt at lightening the mood fell completely flat.

They continued working on in silence, each of their heads filled with separate thoughts of the same man.

* * *

In Jimmy's apartments, Jackson was sitting at Jimmy's old desk. He hadn't gone into the bedroom, where Jimmy's body lay. He didn't feel ready for that. He just wanted to sit in Jimmy's office, where Jimmy had lived for the last years of his life. He could almost feel Jimmy's presence all around him, and it wasn't hard to pretend that Jimmy was just away on business. He was in a room where he had seen Jimmy so many times that it was like it had become a part of Jimmy, almost. As long as the room still remained the way it was, it was like a piece of Jimmy was still alive, in a weird way.

After a while of just sitting there in dejected silence, Jackson pulled open the drawer, looking at the miscellaneous stuff inside. There was nothing of real interest, so he reached down and pulled open the side drawer, frowning. There was a photo album in there, a black one.

Though he wasn't sure, Jackson thought he had seen it before. He slowly reached down and picked it up, almost afraid of what he'd find in there. As he opened the cover, he immediately felt a lump in his throat as the familiar scent of baking chocolate chip cookies filled his nostrils. It smelled like his house, even after all those years. It smelled like his mother.

He flipped through the photo album slowly and with great care, taking in the sight of his beautiful mother and her smiling face. The three of them had looked so happy together as a family; he would have never been able to guess that things went so wrong if he hadn't been him. They looked the perfect picture of a young, loving family. He almost smiled at the knowledge that they were anything but.

Once he reached the end of the album, he stood up and carried it over to the bedroom door, taking a deep breath and pushing it open slowly. Jimmy lay on his bed, his eyes closed and his hands folded over his chest. Jackson sighed and sank into the chair beside the older man's bed.

When Jackson had been younger, he had had horrible nightmares of Jimmy being wounded or getting sick, and everyone gathering around him as he lay in his bed, leaving Jackson out of the circle. Now it seemed that that nightmare was coming true, only Jimmy was already dead, and there was no one pushing him away.

"I see you kept this," he said quietly, not realizing that he was actually talking to Jimmy until the words were already out of his mouth. He sighed. He was talking to a body. Still, it felt comforting. "I know you looked at me like a son, Jimmy. I just wanted you to know that you were always a father to me. And you were a damn good one, too, Jimmy." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll try to make you proud."

Finally, after all those years of holding it in, Jackson broke down and cried.


	20. All I Wanted Was You

Sorry about the long wait. This week has not been my best. Let's just leave it at that.

This is indeed the final chapter of A Beautiful Lie. : I'm sad to see it go, but all great things must come to an end…so there can be a sequel. The sequel is going to be titled "Move Along" (by the way…went to the Fallout Boy concert with the All American Rejects last night and it was AMAZING. It's partly what inspired the title to the new story.) But yeah, so it's called Move Along, and I'll probably take a 2 or 3 week break before I start uploading it, because I want to try to write as far as I can into the story before I start uploading.

To all my amazing reviewers; thanks for reviewing! You made things a little better this week :

**Joelle: **Yeah, Lisa and Jackson weren't very together in this chapter, but in this chapter there's a little. And the sequel is going to really bring it all together! I'm glad you liked the reactions of Lisa's parents lol. Those were fun to write. Thanks for the review!

**DollyMomma:** I'm glad:D Thanks for reviewing!

**Cassia:** I'm glad you liked it! And I'm sorry I probably gave you a heart attack : Thanks for the review!

**Madisco:** Thank you…is all I can say : hahaha.

**Playnirvana24**: Haha, I agree that the whole "oh, your new boyfriend is your ex-kidnapper! That's cute!' parental thing is a liiiitle twisted. I wanted to make sure I didn't do that. Thanks for the review!

**Allison: **Yep, Lisa DID realize that Jackson's not a bad man. And she's going to realize it even more in this next chapter :

* * *

**Chapter 20: **All I Wanted Was You

_I tried to be someone else  
But nothing seemed to change  
I know now, this is who I really am inside  
Finally found myself  
Fighting for a chance  
I know now, this is who I really am_

_Kill  
Break me down  
Bury me, bury me  
I am finished with you, you, you  
Look in my eyes  
You're killing me, killing me  
**All I wanted was you**_

30 Seconds to Mars  
The Kill

* * *

Lisa was sitting on her bed, going through an old photo album, when her father walked in quietly. She didn't hear him come in, but when he sat down on the bed next to her, she looked up before remembering that she was supposed to be mad at him and looking quickly back down. She could smell her mother's perfume, and knew that Marietta was undoubtedly standing outside the doorway, listening to every word.

"Honey?" Joe said quietly, looking at her pleadingly. She sighed and closed the photo album slowly.

"Yes?" she asked, trying to sound indifferent.

"I know you're feeling a little confused right now…" Joe started, but the look on Lisa's face told him that that probably wasn't the best word choice. Still, he bravely continued on. "But you have to understand that your mother and I…we just want what's best for you."

"I know," Lisa said quietly, though she didn't sound all that convinced. She took a deep breath. "But daddy…I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I can decide for myself who's a good person and who's not."

"I know," Joe said reluctantly. "I just worry about you sometimes. I don't want something to happen to you because of some decision you made."

"Daddy, look at where I just was," Lisa said quietly. "I had to make decisions there…I had to make decisions that I knew could end my life at any moment. And look at me! I'm all right."

"I know," Joe said gently. "It's just…he left you back there, Lisa. He left you to go to that place without knowing what you would find there. What if Brian and I hadn't been there? You could have been killed! And he just let you go! Does that seem like a good man to you?"

"I made him go," Lisa said quietly, but with a lot of force. "He didn't want to leave…he almost came with me…but I made him go because I owed it to him. If he hadn't shown up at my apartment that day, daddy, I would have been kidnapped, and I would have been killed. I owed him what he gave me; a chance. If he had come with me, he would have been arrested. I couldn't let that happen. I know you think he dragged me into all of this, but by dragging me into it, he saved me."

Joe was silent for a long while; obviously thinking.

"I don't like what he did," he said after a pause. "I don't like that he took you with him without telling anyone. But…" he sighed and looked as if it pained him to say what was coming next. "I am grateful for what he did for you. For saving you."

Lisa smiled at her father brightly, and it was clear that his words meant a lot to her. He wasn't sure why, but she had become very defensive of Jackson, and he realized that nothing he could say was going to change her mind on the matter. She was right. She could make her own decisions; and she would, whether he liked it or not.

"Thank you," she said quietly, looking him in the eye sternly. "Make sure mom shares that feeling." She glanced at the door. Joe smiled slightly and reached over, pulling his daughter into a hug. Though before the incident, he knew she would have flinched and pulled away as quickly as possible, now she welcomed his embrace. He smiled and kissed her hair.

"I'll talk to her," he promised. Lisa nodded.

"That's all I can really hope for, isn't it?" she asked with a dramatic sigh. Joe laughed.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "No guarantees with your mother."

He could practically feel the anger radiating from behind the door, but he didn't care. As long as Lisa was smiling, he was happy.

* * *

Jackson and Harrison stood together in the center of the complex, looking around at the fruits of their long, tiring job. The bodies were all clear, along with the rubble and the chaos that had come from the panic that ensued when the place was attacked. Though it definitely didn't look good as new, there were no bloodstains and there was no plaster on the floor.

"I think this is as good as it's going to get with three people," Jackson said wearily. The three of them had spent hours searching every nook and cranny in the entire place for bodies. It was a hard job, especially considering that many of the people had been friends of Jackson and Vincent. Harrison had found the body of a young girl, no more than eight years old, huddling next to a bed in one room; a gunshot wound to the stomach and an expression of eternal pain on her pretty little face. He knew he would never forget what he had seen, and he wished fervently that things had turned out differently.

"I need to make a phone call," he mumbled to Jackson, who nodded offhand, wrapped up in his inspection of the room around him. Harrison hobbled on his crutches over to the phones against the wall. Leaning heavily on the wall, he picked up the phone and dialed the number. He waited through several rings before he heard the click that signaled that someone had picked up on the other line.

"Hello?" came the tired female voice on the other end.

"Adriana?" Harrison asked with relief. "You're okay?"

"Harrison…" said the voice, not as excited as Harrison had thought it would be. "Where are you?"

"Something came up for work…"

"You always say that," Adriana said with a heavy sigh. "Harrison, are you selling drugs?"

"No!" Harrison exclaimed. "I promise I'll tell you everything once you get here…"

"No," said Adriana firmly, and Harrison felt the breath get knocked out of him.

"What?" he said in a weak little voice.

"I said no, Harrison…you know, for a while I thought maybe, maybe I loved you…but it's clear to me now that I can never love you. I need a man who's going to give me the attention I deserve. And with your job…well, it's obvious that you just can't do that."

"Baby, no, I promise that this time is different," Harrison argued. "That's all over now. I quit my job..."

"It's too late," Adriana said in a stony voice. "I…" here, she seemed to lose some of her resolve. "I don't know how to tell you this. I really don't want to hurt you but…I've been seeing someone else. And not just recently. I've been seeing them for a long time."

"How long?" Harrison asked after a stunned silence.

"Just…a long time," Adriana said with a heavy sigh. "Harrison, I really don't want to hurt you…but that's just how it is. I don't love you. So just…forget about it."

There was a harsh click on the other end, and Harrison stood there at the phone for a good minute before he finally hung up the phone slowly. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, not quite sure what had just happened. He couldn't believe what she had told him. He had loved her, he had done everything that he did just for her…and she didn't love him? It just seemed so impossibly unfair to him that he didn't think he could take it.

Part of him wanted to walk into Jimmy's room, take one of the guns that was piled there, and just blow his brains out, but he knew he had to be stronger than that. He had always been a firm opponent of suicide, and he wasn't going to change. Even though he felt as though his heart had been torn into shreds, he knew he was going to have to keep it together. Even though his hope was gone, he was going to have to move along and make it through.

Managing to keep himself under control, he hobbled back over to Jackson numbly. The other man looked at him casually, then more carefully.

"What happened?" he asked. Harrison sighed and drew in a shuddering breath. For a minute, he was going to tell Jackson that he didn't want to talk about it, but the words started coming out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"My girlfriend just told me that she never loved me," he said quietly. "And that she's been seeing someone else for a while now."

Jackson's eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. Obviously, he hadn't been expecting that.

"Where is she?" he asked seriously. "I'll get a team out there right now. They'll kill him."

"No, no," Harrison said quickly, holding up a hand. "I…" he sighed and shook his head. "I don't care if she isn't with me…as long as she's happy…I can be happy."

Jackson looked at Harrison with something like disappointment in his gaze, but he nodded.

"Right," he said quietly. "I guess that's good."

He looked down at the ground, realizing that Harrison's words made a lot more sense than he had thought at first. Harrison's love was true love. He was willing to give up the woman he loved so she could be happy, even if it wasn't with him. He hadn't known anyone that sacrificing in a while, and he respected that in the other man.

"Jackson Fucking Rippner!" exclaimed a voice from across the center, pulling him out of his thoughts. Jackson looked up, his heart breaking all over again when he saw Bennie Carver walking towards him, his long blonde hair swishing as he smiled widely at his old friend. "I know this ain't an occasion for celebratin', but my God, Jackie! I ain't seen you in ten years, at least!"

Jackson smiled sadly, accepting the southern man's hug.

"I've missed you," he said quietly. There was a short pause, and Bennie's smile faded.

"What is it?" he asked. "What happened?"

"Bennie…I…" Jackson started, then stopped and drew in a deep breath, deciding that it was just better to get it over with. "It's Felicia…she…she's dead."

Harrison and Jackson watched in horror as Bennie's face crumbled in front of them. They could see in his eyes the ruination of his soul so clearly that it was like watching it on television. Neither of them could look away from the horrible sight in front of them. Bennie's eyes spoke volumes to the both of them as he looked from one to the other, his mouth open in shock and despair.

"Where is she?" he asked in a hoarse whisper, clenching his fists. Jackson pointed to the door that had Felicia's name on it. Bennie turned and looked at it, then looked back at Jackson. "What about Scarlett?" he asked.

"She's in the hospital," Jackson said quietly. "We thought she was dead…"

Bennie closed his eyes painfully and ran a hand through his long hair, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. The grief in his expression was one that neither Jackson nor Harrison would ever forget. They had seen a heart destroyed right before their very eyes, and there was nothing either of them could do to stop it.

"Thank you," Bennie whispered in a quiet voice, turning back to Jackson and embracing him stonily before turning and walking towards the door. Robotically, he opened it and walked in, closing it gently behind him. Jackson looked at Harrison, and Harrison looked back, and then they stood there together and watched as people started to slowly wander in, looking around at the bullet holes in the walls and the chipped paint and ruined ceiling, gasping and covering their mouths in their horror.

Vincent walked in, wiping his forehead and looking at Jackson sadly.

"More people showing up than we expected," he murmured. "Everyone regrouped real fast once they heard Jimmy was dead. They all wanted to come and pay their respects."

"Bennie came," Jackson said hollowly, the pain reflected in his voice. Vincent nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "I know. It killed me to see him."

"I know," Jackson said, shaking his head and looking towards the door through which Bennie had disappeared. "He loved her…more than anything. Didn't he?"

"She was a good woman," Vincent said sadly. "Good woman for him."

Jackson sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't know how he's going to recover," he said, biting his lip slightly.

"It's not going to be easy," Vincent agreed. "But we'll help him through it."

Jackson nodded, but before he could say anything else, a gunshot rang through the air. Everyone at once began to scream and panic.

"It came from there!" Harrison yelled, pointing to the room that Bennie was in.

"Fuck! No!" Jackson yelled, charging through the growing crowd of panicked people as Vincent tried to calm everyone down. Jackson nearly slammed into the door and viciously threw the doorknob open, yelling with horror as he saw Bennie's body splayed on the ground.

He had taken Felicia out of the body bag, and was holding her in his arms as he sat against the bed. His eyes were open, and face was expressionless. At least, what was left of his face. Half of it was gone in a disgusting display of eerie gore.

"Oh my God!" Harrison choked out as he entered the room and laid eyes on the once-happy couple. Jackson closed his eyes and felt his stomach starting to churn. He put his hand to his forehead and tried to push the tears back down.

"Holy shit!" Vincent exclaimed tearfully as he entered the room. He looked at Jackson, who looked sickened, and then back down at Bennie and Felicia. "Oh my God! Fuck!"

Jackson opened his eyes and stared at the sight in front of him. He remembered all the times Bennie had laughed and joked with him. He had always been a romantic person, Bennie. He always had told Jackson that if he ever met his soul mate, there wouldn't be anything that could keep them apart. Not even death. Jackson had always thought that last part was corny, but now as he looked down at his friend and his wife, he realized that the other man had been serious all along. He loved Felicia more than he loved his own life. He loved her so much that he would give up everything because he couldn't stand to live without her.

* * *

Lisa was getting dressed when there was a knock on the door. Hurriedly, she threw her shirt over her head and practically sprinted down the stairs, reaching the door just before her father and opening it. Her hopes fell yet again when she saw that it was Brian who stood at the door and not Jackson.

"Sergeant Greene," she said with a smile on her face. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I'm on my way to Jimmy's funeral," Brian said, making a face. "I wanted to know if there was anything you want me to tell Jackie."

Lisa thought for a moment. She did want to go to the funeral, but she figured that she hadn't been invited, so she shouldn't go.

"Just tell him…tell him I'm sorry about Jimmy," she said after a while. "And I think you should tell him the truth."

"What truth?" Brian asked, not following her at all.

"The truth about who you really are," Lisa said, leaning against the door and looking at him pointedly. "I think he has a right to know that the man he killed wasn't really his father. That does a lot to a person, Brian. That's part of the reason he's always so closed off. I think he needs to know. It'll do him good."

Brian nodded slowly, and then more decisively.

"You're right," he said, though he didn't sound all that pleased about it. "I'll talk to him about it. I'll tell him."

"Good," Lisa said with a smile. "I think that's all I really wanted to say."

"Are you sure?" Brian asked.

No, Lisa wasn't sure. There were a million other things she wanted to say to Jackson at that moment, but she knew she couldn't say them through Brian. She had to say them to Jackson herself.

"Yeah," she said quietly.

"I'll talk to you later," Brian said, nodding over her shoulder at Joe, who had been listening the entire time. "I'll probably stop by after the funeral and see how everything's going."

"Okay," Lisa said, though she didn't really think that was necessary. She just wanted to know how Jackson would take the news. She had a feeling that Brian just wanted to tell her.

With another nod and a friendly smile, Brian turned and walked back down the front walkway and to his car. Lisa waited until he had pulled out of the driveway, and then she closed the door and turned to her father.

"I think that was a good idea," Joe said after a pause. "Getting Brian to tell him. He never would have, otherwise. I think he was waiting for someone to tell him that he should and make sense."

"I think so too," Lisa said. "That's why I said it."

Joe smiled and wrapped his arm around his daughter's shoulders, leading her into the kitchen.

"I really am proud of you, you know," he said with a smile. "You've grown up so much…I don't think you could have handled this three months ago."

"I know I couldn't have," Lisa admitted. "I would have been too weak, too…timid to do any of the things I did." She shook her head. "I never thought getting kidnapped on an airplane and then attacked in my own house would save me later on down the road."

Joe laughed and ruffled his daughter's hair, shaking his head.

"I guess that just goes to show you that in every cloud, there's a silver lining," he said. Lisa smiled.

"Yeah," she said. "I think that saying applies right about there."

They smiled at each other, and then Lisa sat down on the couch and curled up as she and her father continued to watch the comedy marathon, each lost in their own thoughts.

* * *

Almost three hours after Bennie killed himself, Jackson, Vincent, and Harrison stood in the center of the complex beside Jimmy's body, dressed in typical fashionable suits and ties. Jackson and Vincent were playing the part of immediate family; shaking hands and taking the condolences that the funeral goers had to offer. Harrison stood behind them, only there because he didn't know anyone else and didn't want to be in the crowd of mourners, especially on crutches.

"Jimmy was a good man," said an elderly man named Tom quietly. "A real good man. I knew him well."

"I know you did," Vincent said, smiling fondly at the older man. "He used to talk about you all the time."

Tom seemed to swell with happiness, and he smiled.

"He was a real good friend," he murmured, looking over at the open casket where Jimmy's body lay serenely.

Jackson was watching Tom and Vincent when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned around and saw that it was Brian.

"Greene," he said with surprise. "I didn't expect you'd be able to get away. You must have your hands full down there."

"Not really," Brian said, shrugging. "I told them I was going to go check up on Lisa Reisert and then attend to some personal issues. They didn't ask questions."

"How is Lisa?" Jackson asked. Brian didn't miss the way he perked up a little at the mention of the other woman. He smiled slightly.

"She's fine," he said. "She was real upset when I told her about Jimmy. She told me to tell you she was sorry about what happened…" He seemed to waver a bit here. "And she also told me that I should tell you something that I haven't told you yet…and I think I should."

"What's that?" Jackson asked, hearing something in Brian's voice that told him that he probably wasn't going to like what the other man had to say.

"You know about your mother and I, don't you?" he asked. Jackson nodded slowly.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I know you loved her. I don't hold any grudges against you…you were better to her than my father ever was."

"No, I wasn't," Brian said with a tight lipped smile. "Your mother and I had an affair for fifteen years, Jackson. Fifteen years."

Jackson started at Brian with slow realization. He remembered that night when he had pulled out the picture of his father and he had stared at it, looking for some resemblance. Now, as he looked at Brian, he saw part of himself. He saw the same blue eyes, and the same pursed lip smile. It wasn't so obvious that it could be noticed right away; he had taken most of his mother's looks, but once he realized that it should be there, it was.

"You…" Jackson said quietly. "You're my father?"

"I'm your father," Brian said in an even quieter voice, and Jackson could tell he was trying not to cry. "I tried to get your mother to leave with me so many times, and take you, so we could be a real family…but she couldn't do it. She loved your fa…David. She loved David despite everything that he had done to her. I never understood it, but for whatever reason, it was why she didn't come with me."

Jackson didn't say anything to that. He couldn't. He had gone his entire life thinking that he had killed his father that day when he was twelve years old, only to find out that that man hadn't been his father at all. It was quite a shock to process.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked after a long silence that threatened to grow awkward. Brian sighed and looked down at the ground, looking ashamed of himself.

"I didn't know how, in the beginning" he said slowly. "And when Jimmy took you in, I thought it'd be good for you to be able to grow up with him. And Jimmy needed a son more than I did. He needed someone to treat like he treated his boy…I didn't want to ruin that for either of you."

Jackson nodded slowly. He understood where the other man was coming from, though he was a little sore that he had gone his entire life thinking that his father was dead by his own hand.

"Lisa wanted you to tell me?" he asked, doing what he did best whenever an uncomfortable situation arose; avoid the subject.

"She said it would be the right thing to do," Brian said, looking as relieved to be off of the subject as Jackson felt.

Jackson nodded slowly.

"How long did she know?" he asked.

"Just since yesterday," Brian said. "She was the first person I had ever really told."

"Why her?" Jackson asked, tilting his head to one side. Brian thought for a moment, obviously not quite sure himself.

"She was the first person I had every really talked to that was close enough to you for it to make an impact," he said quietly. "I think a part of me wanted her to tell you. But I knew all along, I think, that I had to tell you myself."

There was a long pause.

"I'm glad you did," Jackson said quietly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Brian said, and Jackson could see the caring and kindness in his eyes. It was like looking at Jimmy's eyes in another body. While slightly disorienting, it was also slightly comforting. Jackson thought to himself that though the news had certainly surprised him, and he wasn't quite sure to do with the bit of information that he had been given, it was good news. He smiled slightly. It was the best thing that had happened to him in several days, certainly.

Though, then again, that wasn't really saying much.

* * *

After the funeral, Jackson, Vincent, Harrison, and Brian were the only ones left standing in the center. The others had all gone to their rooms to retire and think about what had happened; no doubt gossiping with the bits of information that they had been able to gather.

For a while, the four men just stood there, looking at one another and thinking. Then, Vincent sighed.

"Well," he said. "I guess we'd better just discuss this shit as it stands. We all know who Jimmy would have wanted to become the new head of this place." He looked over at Jackson. Jackson looked back at him, shaking his head.

"No," he said quietly. "You know me, Vincent. I don't like taking control."

"Yeah," Vincent said, nodding. "I figured."

"You'd be the next best," Jackson pointed out. "I vote you take over."

Harrison nodded quickly, as did Brian.

"I vote that, too," Harrison said. "I know I probably don't have much say in the matter…but for whatever it's worth, I vote that too."

"It's worth enough," Jackson said. "Vincent, you're taking over."

"Oh, so you can refuse, but I can't?" Vincent asked, arching his eyebrow questioningly. Jackson smirked and shrugged. "All right. I have no problems taking over anyway. I'll do it if you want me to."

"Good," Jackson said. "Well, guess the office is yours now."

Vincent nodded quietly, looking down at the ground with a sad expression.

"You know…" he said thoughtfully. "Jimmy used to always talk about how his father used to sleep in there, when he was the head of this place…and how he always wanted his son there. Jackson, I think you should stay in there, even if you're not the head of the place. Because you're the closest thing that Jimmy had to a son. Now maybe his name can't continue, but at least he'll have you in there."

"Where would you stay?" Jackson asked, his brow furrowing.

"The room right next to it is pretty big," Vincent said, shrugging. "Jimmy always kept it empty, but I could take it.

"All right," Jackson said shrugging. He knew what Vincent was saying. Jimmy had always talked about how he had dreamed of his son one day taking his place in that office, even though he didn't have a son. In the back of his mind, he had always thought of himself as Jimmy's son, and Jimmy was always his father, though he would have never admitted that he felt that strongly about it.

"So what do we do now?" Harrison asked, looking around at the other men for guidance.

"We wait," Vincent replied with a shrug. "We wait and we build ourselves back up and we fix everything that was broken."

Jackson nodded.

"We pick up the pieces," he said. Then the four of them stood there in silence, the future overwhelming to each and every one of them. After a long pause, Harrison turned and hobbled his way back to his room, to doubt going to reflect on what had happened to him and what he was going to do about it. Vincent was the next to go; into his new room to call the hospital and see how Scarlett was doing. That left Brian and Jackson standing there.

"I'm going back to Lisa's," Brian said after a long while. "Do you want to come with me?"

Jackson thought for a moment, then shook his head slowly.

"No," he said decisively. "She's had enough of me."

Brian looked about to say something, then evidentially changed his mind and instead slowly nodded.

"All right," he said. "Is there anything you want me to tell her for you?"

Jackson thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"I can't think of anything," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. Brian nodded and looked at Jackson carefully.

"She's a good girl," he said. "A real nice girl. And she cares about you, though I don't think she wants to admit it to herself yet."

"She is a nice girl," Jackson responded, pointedly leaving out the other part. Brian nodded, getting the hint that Jackson didn't want to talk about it, and then he turned and walked down the hallway towards the front gate, leaving Jackson standing alone behind him, deep in thought.

* * *

Lisa was woken from her nap on the couch when her father gently shook her awake to announce that Brian had stopped by to see how she was doing. She sat up, embarrassed though she knew that sleeping was nothing to be embarrassed about.

"Sorry," she said apologetically to Brian, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "I can't seem to get enough sleep."

"Completely understandable," Brian said with a small chuckle. "I'd like to get some sleep myself."

Lisa smiled at him, then suddenly remembered where he had been.

"How did the funeral go?"

"As good as all funerals go, I suppose. A lot of crying, reminiscing, and alcohol. Though more alcohol and less crying than normal funerals I suppose."

Lisa smiled slightly, though she felt that heavy weight on her chest that she got whenever she wanted to cry.

"How's Harrison doing?" she asked. "Is he all right?"

"He's walking around on crutches just fine," Brian said with a nod and a smile. "He's a nice kid."

"He is," Lisa said nodding and looking down at the ground.

"Vincent's taking over Jimmy's job," Brian continued quickly, sensing that Lisa was about to slip into a somber mood. "They decided on it after the funeral."

"Really?" Lisa asked. "You'd think that Jackson would take that job."

"He turned it down," Brian said with a shrug. "He's never really been one for leading. He just likes to get his assignments and go and do them."

"Funny, and he told me he doesn't like being told what to do," Lisa remarked, smirking.

"Oh, he doesn't," Brian said with a snort. "You can trust me on that one. But assignments…he's never had a problem with."

"So did he quit?" Lisa asked. "His job, I mean."

"Well, he's not with the Organization anymore; that's for sure. I assume that he'll take second position under Vincent."

Lisa nodded. She could see that. Vincent definitely seemed like he'd be a good leader; he was charismatic and friendly. Jackson was more of a behind-the-scenes loner. At least, that was how she looked at it.

"Did you tell him?" she asked suddenly. Brian nodded slowly.

"I told him," he answered, knowing immediately what she was talking about.

"What did he say?" Lisa asked.

"He said he understood why I didn't tell him earlier," Brian answered. "And he thanked me for telling him. There were no fireworks or anything…but I think he appreciated knowing."

"He did," Lisa said decisively. "I don't know him very well, but I know he did."

Joe, who had been silently listening to this exchange the entire time, gave Lisa a look that she didn't catch. It was the admiration in her voice that did it. He was surprised at the tone.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Brian asked after a long moment of silence. "Because I should probably get back to the station."

"I'm fine," Lisa said. Joe stood up to lead Brian back out the door.

"I'll talk to you all later," Brian said, and then he nodded to Lisa and followed Joe down the hallway towards the front door. Lisa waited for him to go, then slumped back on the couch a little bit, feeling slightly disappointed. So Jackson hadn't said anything for Brian to tell her. She was a little bit offended, actually. She had thought that he'd at least say something.

Joe walked back down the hallway towards the couch, and smiled at Lisa slightly.

"Looks like everything's all right, now," he said. Lisa nodded sadly and smiled, though she knew that things were far from all right. Like it or not, she had gotten mixed up in something that she was going to have to figure out one way or the other. She had gotten involved in those people back at Jimmy's complex. Just because the fight was over, it didn't mean she wanted to abandon them and forget about them just like they had never existed. She wanted to continue to talk to them and see how their lives were going. She had never really felt that way before about anyone. She hadn't been so desperate to be friendly with someone; it had always just happened. She wanted those friendships because she knew that they were the key to finding something that had always been missing. She just didn't know what that was yet.

"I just called your aunt Meryl," Marietta said loudly as she breezed into the house, carrying her aura of perfume. "She's going to stop by later today and see how you're doing."

Lisa smiled, snapping out of her reverie.

"That's good," she said. "I haven't seen her in a while."

"She was one of the first people who called," Joe remarked.

Lisa nodded and smiled and small-talked until she thought her head would burst. She didn't want to talk about her aunt or how her cousins had all been worried sick about her, or about how her manager was planning on sending flowers. She just wanted to lie down and think about all the things she needed to think about. Something was just wrong in her head. She needed to think about something and she wasn't quite sure what it was. But she knew she wasn't going to get the chance to think about it; not with everyone flitting around her and making sure she was okay and trying to get her to talk about her 'experience'. Though the day had just begun, she was already wishing fervently for it to be over.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Joe frowned for a moment before he noticed that Brian's hat was sitting on the arm of the couch.

"Oh," he said. "His hat. I'll be right back."

Joe walked down the hallway, and Marietta sat on the couch beside her daughter, taking her hands in hers and pulling her to face her.

"Honey, I know you really don't like it when your father and I ask you this…but are you okay? You seem kind of…unfocused. Dazed, maybe, is a better word."

"It hasn't even been a day since it happened, mom," Lisa said with a small, patient smile, shaking her head. "I'm obviously going to be a little rattled."

They heard Joe open the door. Low voices started.

"I know, sweetheart," Marietta said carefully. "But…maybe you should consider this therapy thing. It could do you a lot of good, you know."

"Mom!" Lisa exclaimed, sighing. "I don't want therapy. I need to deal with this on my own."

The low voices in the hallway stopped, and the door closed. Footsteps began walking back into the room. Lisa started to turn around to say something to her father angrily, but her mother put her hand on her cheek and turned her back to face her.

"Honey, we just want what's best for you," she said quietly. "We just want you to be all right again."

"Mom, I'm fine," Lisa insisted, brushing her mother's hand away. "You can't expect me to get over it in a day. Obviously some stuff happened that I'm going to need to work out." She stood up and turned to face her father. "Dad, tell her…"

She froze as she saw that her father was no longer alone.

"Hey Leese," Jackson said, and then he smiled.

* * *

Vincent stood at the end of Scarlett's bed, watching her sleep with a small smile on his face. She was so beautiful. He didn't know how he could have ever thought she wasn't the right woman for him. He didn't know how he could have ever gotten confused.

Slowly moving around to the chair beside the bed, he sat down and watched her breathe. All time seemed to slide to a halt, and it was just him and Scarlett, together for eternity.

Sighing heavily, he leaned forward, propping one elbow on the bed beside her. His other hand slowly reached out and brushed the hair away from her face. His fingers tenderly danced over the curves of her cheeks, the lines of her eyes. He felt like a blind man, even as his eyes took in her beauty.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to her. She stirred lightly, and then her eyes were open. He hurriedly withdrew his hand from where it had been resting on the side of her face. She looked around, breathing heavily.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"Killingston," Vincent said calmly. "The hospital wing."

"What happened?" Scarlett asked, groaning. She tried to sit up, but Vincent quickly pushed her back down again

"Hey, hey, hey, none of that!" he exclaimed. "Don't do that!"

Scarlett hissed in pain and put her hand down where the bandages were wrapped around her side.

"Oh my God," she murmured as everything came back to her in a rush, and she closed her eyes shut against the barrage of tears that threatened. She looked at Vincent and reached out a trembling and shaking hand, gingerly touching the side of his face, as if making sure he was still real.

"She's dead," she whispered in a haunted voice. "I can't believe she's dead."

Vincent swallowed guiltily. He hadn't told her about Bennie. He didn't know how to go about doing it, but he knew he had to somehow.

"There's something…something you should know," he said quietly. She looked at him, a single tear creeping down her face. The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know.

"He's dead, isn't he?" she asked. "Shot to the head, as soon as he saw her."

"Yeah," Vincent murmured quietly, looking down at the ground. "We gave him a few moments alone with her…we shouldn't have, I know…we weren't thinking…"

"No…" Scarlett said quietly, shaking her head and reaching her hand up to put her finger to his lips. "No, you did the right thing. He was dead the moment she stopped breathing."

Vincent looked at her with his broken heart reflected easily in his eyes, and she looked back with the strength and determination of a woman who has nothing to live for but refuses to give up hope that one day she will find something to live for. It was clear by the way she was looking at him that he had become her reason for breath, simply because there were no other options. He found himself surprisingly okay with that.

"I thought you were dead," he whispered quietly. "When we first got here…they weren't sure you were going to make it."

"I thought I was dead too," Scarlett whispered. "I took Jackson's gun…I just walked out into the open." She shuddered slightly, looking at the ceiling with a haunted expression. "Vincent, I had wanted to die. I've never wanted to die before. Not with everything that happened." She turned and looked at him sadly. "But I thought you were dead. I thought you and Jimmy and everyone else…I thought it was over."

"It's just beginning," Vincent said sadly. "But Jimmy…"

Scarlett closed her eyes painfully, as if Vincent's words were causing her actual physical pain.

"He's dead?" she asked quietly, opening her eyes and looking at him with tear-filled eyes. He nodded slowly, and she took in a deep breath, shaking her head quietly. "Why did this all have to happen, Vincent? Why us?"

"I don't know," Vincent whispered brokenly, and then neither of them could resist it any longer. He bent down and she rose up, and they wrapped their arms around each other and cried.

* * *

"Come with me," Lisa said, looking at her parents nervously before walking out into the hallway. She heard Jackson following her, and she pushed open the front door, ushering him through. Then, she closed it firmly behind her; not just the screen but the actual door as well. Jackson looked at her questioningly. "I just saved you."

"Ah," Jackson said with understanding. "Unpleasant parents?"

"Unpleasant feelings towards my kidnapper," Lisa clarified. Jackson nodded understandingly.

"Well, that's to be expected," he said with a heavy sigh, shaking his head with mock sadness.

"You're just lucky my mother didn't realize who you were before I got you out of there," Lisa said sympathetically. Jackson smiled lightly at her, his gaze becoming much more gentle.

"How are you?" he asked. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Lisa said, shrugging. "A little shaken…but I'll be okay."

"I'm glad," Jackson said, and he really sounded as if he was. "I…um…well we had Jimmy's funeral today, as you know…but the other funerals are going to be in a few days. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come to Felicia's funeral?"

Lisa nodded sadly.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, that would be nice."

"All right," Jackson said. He looked down at the ground for an instant, shoving his hands into his pockets. Lisa felt like they were in high school. "I should probably go before your mother comes after me."

"Yeah," Lisa said, smirking. "That's probably best."

"I'll be in touch," Jackson said, starting to turn away. Then, he turned back. "Oh…um…thank you…for telling Brian to tell me."

"You're welcome," Lisa said quietly, sadly. Jackson nodded again and started to turn away. Lisa felt disappointment welling within her. Then, Jackson turned back and leaned towards her. "Parents in the window," Lisa said warningly, and Jackson's attempt at a kiss soon turned into a completely innocent, if a little intimate, hug. Lisa smiled into his chest and looked up at him. "Smooth."

"Well, that's what I'm good at," Jackson said. He looked down at her as if seeing a whole new person. "You really are an amazing woman, Lisa." He shook his head, and then turned and walked down the steps. Lisa watched him go, and watched him pull out of the driveway and drive away.

As Lisa turned back towards the house, pretending not to see the way the curtain suddenly jolted back into place, she realized that she was going to have to face a whole lot of changes. Being a hotel manager, Lisa didn't often like change. Change meant unhappy customers. Change meant that things went wrong. But in this case, she decided as she breathed in a little and could still smell his scent faintly lingering in the air, change was very good. Change could bring her the happiest times of her life.

She walked into her house, back to her parents, and she knew that she was a changed woman. She knew that everything she had learned in the past few days would be used to improve her life for the better. She knew above all else that her perceptions of people would be forever changed, and for that, she was grateful.

It was certainly an odd feeling, to walk into a room and look at her mother and know that she knew more than her mother did, at least about people. She knew that people weren't just black or white, right or wrong. People were people and that was that. There was a little good and bad in everyone. There was a little black and white, but there was a whole lot of gray.

Marietta didn't understand. That much was clear. Lisa knew, however, that her mother would understand eventually. She would come to know what her daughter came to know. Joe would, too.

For the first time in a long while, Lisa was truly certain that her life was moving in the right direction. Sure, she had taken a few detours, some of which weren't the best roads to take, but they all led to the same place in the end. They all led to the future. And Lisa's future was looking up.


End file.
